MODERN 


SELECTED   TEXTS  WITH    TRANSLATIONS 
AND  AN  INTRODUCTION  BY 

P.  SELVER 


LONDON 

KEGAN  PAUL,  TRENCH,  TRUBNER  &  CO.  LTD. 

NEW  YORK.  E.  P.  DUTTON  &  CO. 

1920 


COLLtUt 
UfftMH 

PS- 


DEDICATED  TO  THE   MEMORY  OF 

DR.  JOSEF  KARASEK  (1868-1916) 

AND 

OTAKAR  THEER  (1880-1917) 


PREFACE. 


The  general  arrangement  of  this  book  is  uniform  with  that 
of  my  "Modern  Russian  Poetry",  and  here,  as  there,  an  endea- 
vour has  been  made  to  reconcile  linguistic  and  literary  interests. 
I  should  like  to  emphasise  this,  because  the  publication  of  the 
original  texts  might  lead  to  the  erroneous  idea  that  this  was 
intended  mainly  as  a  philological  work. 

As  regards  the  choice  of  authors,  Brezina,  Machar,  Sova 
and  Vrchlicky^  (perhaps  also  Bezrufi),  by  their  undisputed  po- 
sition in  Czech  literature,  claimed  an  immediate  precedence. 
1  was  then  left  with  the  familiar  problem  of  little  space  and 
much  material,  and  as  a  result  I  regretfully  had  to  omit  a  number 
of  poets  whom  I  should  have  included  in  a  larger  collection. 

In  choosing  the  single  items,  I  aimed  at  as  wide  a  variety  as 
possible.  Thus,  where  the  work  of  the  poets  concerned  covers 
a  long  period,  I  have  taken  examples  which  indicate  something 
of  their  artistic  development.  Critics  who  are  familiar  with  the 
material  will  understand  that,  for  obvious  reasons,  this  process 
could  be  carried  out  only  in  an  imperfect  manner.  For  example, 
Vrchlicky's  work  covers  so  wide  an  area,  that  I  have  not  even 
attempted  to  deal  with  its  later  phases.  But  even  in  that  ex- 
ceptional instance,  I  followed  my  principle  as  far  as  1  went,  and 
I  think  that  this  method  will  be  an  advantage  to  readers  who 
seek  literary  information. 

A  few  translations  are  reprinted  from  my  "Anthology  of  Mod- 
ern Slavonic  Literature";  these  are  marked  with  an  asterisk. 

For  several  years  a  large  amout  of  material  for  my  work  has 
been  made  accessible  to  me  through  the  generosity  of  Czech 
authors  and  publishers.  In  this  respect,  I  should  here  like  to 


Vlll  MODERN  CZECH  POETRY. 

mention  with  gratitude  the  names  of  Dr.  Jaromir  Borecky,  Fr. 
Borovy,  Antonin  Klastersky,  J.  S.  Machar,  Dr.  Arne  Novak, 
J.  Otto,  Fr.  S.  Prochazka,  Antonin  Sova,  F.  Simacek,  Karel 
Toman  and  L.  N.  Zverina.  Finally  I  have  to  thank  Dr.  Josef 
Baudis,  Mr.  Ales  Broz  and  Dr.  Vilem  Forster  for  valuable 
help  in  matters  of  interpretation.  P.  SELVER. 

LONDON,  DECEMBER  1919. 


BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  NOTE: 

As  far  as  possible,  the  poems  in  the  present  collection  have 
been  derived  from  the  separate  volumes  indicated  in  the  body 
of  the  book.  The  following  additional  sources  have  been  found 
useful  where  such  editions  were  not  accessible: 

Nova  Ceskd  Poesie.  (Prague,].  R.  Vilfmek,  1907).  Con- 
tains an  introduction  by  Dr.  Arne  Novak. 

Ces^d  Lyra.  Edited  by  Fr.  S.  Prochdzkct  (Prague,  "Unie" 
Publishing  Company.  2nd.  enlarged  edition,  1913). 

Otakar  Bfezina.  Vybor  bdsni.  Pestra  knihovna  No.  26, 
(Prague,  Alois  Hynek).  Contains  an  introduction  by  J.  Karasek 
ze  Lvovic. 

Antonin  Sova.  Vybor  bdsni.  PestrS  knihovna,  No.  4 1 .  (Prague, 
Alois  Hynek).  Contains  an  introduction  by  Dr.  Arne  Novak. 

Anthologie  z  hdsni  Jaroslava  Vrchlickeho,  1875  —  7692. 
(Prague,  J.  Otto). 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

PREFACE                 -  -  VII 

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  NOTE  -  V11I 

INTRODUCTION  -  XI 

PETR  BEZRUC: 

I.  KIJOV  -  3 

•2.  THE  PITMAN  -  3 

3-  I  (iii)  -  7 

OTAKAR  BREZ1NA: 

1.  GAZE  OF  DEATH  9 
•2.  A  MOOD  -  1 1 

3.  LEGEND  OF  SECRET  GUILT  -  1 1 

4.  BROTHERHOOD  OF  THE  BELIEVERS  -  13 

5.  EARTH?         -  -  15 

6.  SPRING  NIGHT  -  17 

J.  S.  MACHAR: 

•I.  BROODING    -  19 

2.  NOVEMBER  SONNET  -  19 

3.  AVAR  INROAD  -  21 

4.  PASQUINO  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  POPE  HADRIAN  VI.  -  23 

5.  CROMWELL  AT  THE  CORPSE  OF  CHARLES  I.  -  23 

6.  SHAKESPEARE  -  2.5 

7.  DURER  PAINTING  THE  SAVIOUR'S  HEAD  -  27 

ANTONlN  SOVA: 

1.  THE  FIRST  CONCERT  31 

2.  BY  RIVER-SIDES          -  -  33 

3.  PROMENADE  -  35 
•4.  ON  THE  HILL-SIDE  -  35 

5.  THE  LOVERS'  ESTRANGEMENT  -  37 

6.  ONCE  AGAIN  SHALL  WE  RETURN    -  -  39 
*7.  THE  SON  OF  MOTION  ...       -  -  39 

8.  ETERNAL  UNREST  -  41 

9.  HARVESTS  OF  ROSES  AND  GRAPES  -  43 


X  MODERN  CZECH  POETRY. 

OTAKAR  THEER:  PAGE 

1.  WATER  45 

2.  SPAKE  MY  HEART  -     45 

3.  SONG  -     47 

KAREL  TOMAN: 

1.  THE  SENTIMENTAL  CAROUSERS  -     49 

2.  THE  SUN-DIAL  -     49 

3.  FEBRUARY  -     5 1 

4.  APRIL  -     53 

JAROSLAV '  VRCHLICKY: 

1.  SILENT  LOVE  55 

2.  ADAGIO         -  -      55 

3.  LANDSCAPE  57 

4.  ECLOGUE  IV.  -      57 

5.  FOREST  PHASTASY  59 

6.  AS  PRECIOUS  STONE  -     6 1 

7.  INSCRIPTION  FOR  AN  OLD  GOBLET  -     61 

8.  THE  HAZEL  PATH  63 

9.  STANZAS  -     63 
10.  MERLIN'S  NIGHT  SONG  -     65 

'   II.  QUIS  UT  DEUS?  71 

12.  PASTEL         -  71 

13.  MORNING     -  -     73 

14.  TWO  POEMS  75 

15.  PITY               -  -     79 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  Czechs  are  Slavs,  and  their  poetry  has  all  the  impuls- 
iveness, the  music  and  the  melancholy  which  are  a  common 
heritage  of  their  stock.  But  the  historical  vicissitudes  through 
which  they  have  passed,  together  with  the  special  influences 
to  which  they  have  been  subjected  as  a  result,  have  modified 
their  national  characteristics,  just  as  their  language  is  phoneti- 
cally differentiated  from  that  of  kindred  races.  Thus,  while 
their  poetry  is  rich  in  the  dreamy  cadences  and  elegiac  moods 
which  are,  so  to  speak,  Pan-Slavonic  manifestations,  it  also 
frequently  sounds  the  notes  of  satire,  defiance  and  rebellion. 
Again,  the  local  conditions  of  life  in  Prague,  with  its  sombre 
atmosphere  of  bygone  glory,  have  produced  a  curious  element 
of  artificial  romanticism,  which  finds  its  inspiration  in  the  faded, 
the  sinister  and  the  aristocratic.  These  latter  ingredients  are  to 
be  met  with  especially  in  the  verses  of  the  Czech  decadents, 
in  striking  contrast  to  the  typical  Moravian  poets,  whose  fond- 
ness for  bright  colouring  and  quaint  phraseology  is  due  to  the 
regional  peculiarities  of  their  native  district. 

By  its  geographical  situation  Bohemia  has  been  more  directly 
exposed  to  Western  European  influences  than  any  other  Slav 
country.  In  literature,  and  especially  in  poetry,  the  Czechs  have 
shown  a  preference  for  French  or  Italian  sources,  and  they  have 
deliberately  ignored  the  more  immediate  German  models. 
Thus  Jaroslav  Vrchlicky,  who  was  born  in  1853  and  died  in 
1912,  the  founder  of  modern  Czech  poetry  in  the  stricter 
sense  of  the  word,  derived  his  main  inspiration  from  Victor 
Hugo  and  Dante.  He  introduced  every  variety  of  metre  into 
Czech  literature,  and  thus  established  a  valuable  tradition  of 
formal  exactitude.  Vrchlicky's  importance  as  an  original  poet 


XII  MODERN  CZECH  POETRY. 

is  considerable,  and  although  his  collected  verses  fill  70  volumes, 
he  maintained  a  surprisingly  high  standard.  His  historical  signi- 
ficance lies  in  the  fact  that  he  fixed  the  future  course  of  Czech 
literature.  He  stands  at  the  cross-roads  which  mark  the  separ- 
ation of  Czech  culture  from  the  German  variety.  To  this  process 
he  contributed  an  enormous  store  of  translations  (the  whole  of 
Dante,  Tasso,  Ariosto,  together  with  a  good  deal  of  Shelley, 
Victor  Hugo,  Whitman,  Calderon  and  Mickiewicz,  forms  only 
a  fraction  of  them),  and  in  this  direction  he  set  an  example 
which  has  been  cultivated  by  numerous  successors.  The  result 
is  that  the  present  generation  of  Czechs  has  been  emancipated 
from  the  need  for  German  versions  of  European  literature. 
Vrchlicky's  occupation  with  foreign  models,  which  left  inevi- 
table traces  in  his  own  poetry,  was  unjustly  taken  amiss  by  a 
number  of  Czech  critics ;  unjustly,  because  they  overlooked 
his'achievement  in  raising  the  whole  plane  of  Czech  literature, 
whose  national  capacity  he  paradoxically  extended  by  intro- 
ducing international  elements.  Moreover,  his  creative  influence 
on  the  Czech  language  was  of  the  utmost  value  even  to  those 
poets  who  had  no  great  regard  for  his  artistic  tendencies. 

The  most  prominent  among  the  many  talented  Czech  poets 
of  today  are  J.  S.  Machar,  Antonin  Sova  and  Otakar  Brezina. 
J.  S.  Machar  (b.  1864)  is  a  poet  (and  prose-writer)  of  revolt. 
He  has  not  altogether  escaped  the  national  bent  for  melancholy 
brooding  and  sentimental  elegy,  which  indeed,  form  the  chief 
contents  of  his  early  poems.  But  it  is  the  pugnacity  in  his  tem- 
perament that  has  dictated  his  most  chai acteristic  work;  and 
the  prominent  objects  of  his  satire  are  chauvinists  and  priests. 
In  his  "Tractate  on  Patriotism",  for  example,  he  coldly  analyses 
and  rejects  the  attitude  of  the  average  nationalist  towards  his 
native  country.  Only  a  man  of  considerable  courage  could  have 
ventured  to  publish  such  a  poem  in  Bohemia,  where  feeling  ran 
very  high  on  such  matters.  The  same  applies  to  his  "Golgotha", 
a  vivid  and  non-clerical  interpretation  of  the  death  of  Christ, 
which  did,  in  fact,  arouse  a  storm  of  indignation  on  its  appear- 
ance in  1 893.  Under  the  general  title  of  "The  Consciousness 
of  the  Ages",  Machar  has  issued  a  series  of  volumes  in  which 


INTRODUCTION.  XIII 

the  leading  figures  and  episodes  of  history  are  depicted  in 
a  poetical  style  whose  energy  and  lack  of  obscurity  harmonize 
with  the  directness  of  each  recital.  It  is  these  qualities,  together 
with  the  gift  of  commenting  on  topical  events  without  lapsing 
into  triviality,  which  have  made  Machar  the  most  popular  Czech 
writer  of  today.  During  the  war  Machar  was  imprisoned  by 
the  Austrian  authorities,  apparently  on  account  of  four  poems 
which  they  considered  dangerous  to  public  order.  In  a  prose- 
work  entitled  "The  Jail"  he  has  described  the  incidents  leading 
up  to  his  arrest,  and  his  experiences  in  prison.  This  narrative, 
with  its  unflagging  vividness  and  clarity  forms  a  literary  and 
historical  document  of  quite  unusual  interest. 

Sova  was  born  in  the  same  year  as  Machar,  to  whom,  how- 
ever, he  presents  a  complete  contrast.  He  expresses  all  the 
dreamy,  the  sensitive  and  the  tragically  melancholy  features  of 
the  Czech  character.  His  early  work  consists  of  poetry  which 
admirably  reproduces  external  impressions  of  town  and  country 
scenery.  He  then  applied  the  same  penetrative  vision  to  the 
recording  of  emotional  phenomena,  and  from  this  point  onward, 
Sova's  poetry  becomes  a  chronicle  of  inner  struggles,  of  bitter- 
ness, of  despondency,  till  in  the  "Harvests"  (1913)  he  arrives 
at  a  mood  of  reconciliation  which  clarifies  the  world  with  a  mel- 
low autumn  radiance.  The  delicacy,  richness  and  subtlety  of  his 
style  ("impressionism",  is  here  a  vague  and  inadequate  label) 
are  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  allegory  and  symbolism  which 
render  his  most  typical  poems  so  profoundly  moving.  Yet  Sova 
can  also  reveal  a  racial  ferocity  as  uncompromising  and  outspoken 
as  that  of  Machar.  Thus  his  poetical  invective,  entitled,  "To 
Theodor  Mommsen"  is  a  masterpiece  of  passionate  rhetoric. 

In  the  poetry  of  Bfezina  (b.  1 868)  —  a  remarkable  and  baff- 
ling figure,  who  has  spent  his  life  in  the  obscurer  districts  of 
Moravia  —  all  contact  with  the  world  of  reality  has  been  elimi- 
nated. His  native  Czech  pietism  has  been  stimulated  by  literary 
influences,  and  much  of  his  work  bears  a  superficial  sesemblance 
to  that  of  Whitman.  His  diction  with  its  bewildering  wealth 
of  imagery  combines  the  two  extremes  of  primitive  simplicity 
and  intellectual  refinement.  And,  while  occult  things  are  fa- 


XIV  MODERN  CZECH  POETRY. 

miliar  to  him,  in  familiar  things  he  often  discovers  an  equally 
occult  aspect.  Briefly,  the  subject-mater  of  his  five  concentrated 
volumes  is  a  search  for  the  meaning  of  life.  But  the  anguished 
questionings  of  his  "Secret  Distances"  of  1 895  represent  an 
attitude  entirely  superseded  by  the  passionate  optimism  of  "The 
Hands",  his  final  volume,  in  which  he  intones  an  enraptured 
hymn  to  human  brotherhood  for,  like  Sova,  he  has  arrived  at  an 
affirmation  of  life,  although  by  a  difference  route  and  through 
a  different  medium. 

The  remaining  representatives  of  contemporary  Czech  poetry 
must  here  be  dealt  with  by  a  process  of  selection,  which  aims 
only  at  discussing  a  few  typical  personalities.  In  the  first  place, 
no  account  of  the  matter  would  be  complete  without  a  refe- 
rence to  Petr  Bezruc.  This  remarkable  and  somewhat  myste- 
rious -figure  is  the  author  of  a  single  volume  which  originally 
appeared  in  1903  under  the  title  "The  Silesian  Number", 
a  revised  and  extended  edition  of  which  was  re-issued  in  1 909 
as  "Silesian  Songs";  Bezruc  is  a  regional  poet  whose  subject- 
matter  is  derived  from  the  local  conditions  in  the  Teschen 
district,  where  the  Czechs  have,  for  years  past,  suffered  soc- 
ially and  racially  from  the  encroachments  of  the  Germans 
and  the  Poles.  In  a  variety  of  poetical  forms,  Bezruc  intones 
variations  on  this  single  theme,  and  in  his  most  characteristic 
passages  he  attains  such  a  monumental  utterance,  such  rhetorical 
and  spontaneous  vigour,  that  these  verses  have  made  their 
author's  name  a  household  word  throughout  the  country. 

While  the  impulse  underlying  the  poems  of  Bezruc  proceeds 
from  the  collective  emotions  of  "Seventy  Thousand",  —  the 
Silesian  Czechs,  —  the  verses  of  Karel  Toman  (b.  1 874)  are 
essentially  individual  in  character.  These  fragile  and  elusive 
snatches  of  song  are  a  direct  expression  of  an  equally  fragile 
and  elusive  nature.  They  are  pervaded  by  a  bitter-sweet 
melancholy  and  a  musical  tearfulness  'which  have  suggested 
comparisons  with  Villon  and  Verlaine.  In  his  later  poems 
Toman  has  attained  a  firmer  and  maturer  style,  without 
sacrificing  the  delicacy  of  his  previous  work. 

The  poetry  of  Otakar  Theer  (1880— 19 1 7)  is  also  intensely 


INTROD  UCTION.  XV 

and  poignantly  personal.  His  literary  beginnings  date  back  to 
the  period  of  so-called  "decadence"  in  Czech  literature,  a 
movement  which  approximately  corresponds  to  the  English 
"Yellow  Book"  activities.  Theer  never  entirely  emancipated 
himself  from  this  influence,  and  at  the  time  of  his  death  he 
was  still  in  an  experimental  stage.  On  the  whole,  he  was 
probably  tending  towards  a  systematic  cultivation  of  free  rhythm, 
although  he  also  employed  regular  strophic  forms  with  artistic 
skill  and  in  great  variety.  But  the  leading  feature  of  Theer's 
verse  is  its  emphatically  subjective  tone.  It  expresses  the  mental 
conflicts  of  a  tragical  personality,  which  were  due  to  the  lack 
of  harmony  between  the  intellectual  and  emotional  tendencies 
in  his  character.  Theer  was  certainly  one  of  the  most  gifted 
among  the  younger  Czech  poets,  and  his  premature  death  is 
a  heavy  loss. 

This  survey  of  modern  Czech  poetry  takes  into  account  only 
those  writers  who  are  represented  in  the  accompanying  extracts. 
It  should,  however,  be  added  that  their  contemporaries  are 
numerous  and  interesting.  A  more  detailed  account  of  their 
work  may  be  given  on  a  later  occasion. 


MODERN  CZECH  POETRY. 


PETR  BEZRUC. 


I.KYJOV. 

Ej,  ztepili  suhaji  v  cizmach  vy, 
ej,  devcata  v  suknici  rude  — 
vzdy  veselo  byvalo  v  Kyjove, 
vzdy  veselo  v  Kyjove  bude. 

Tak  jako  to  tahne  z  vonnych  re*v, 
tak  jako  ty  kypis,  ma  sloko  - 
tak  hori  ta  ohniva  slovacka  krev, 
tak  ret  pali  a  srsi  oko. 

Kdo  chce  nas  bit,  kdo  chce  nas  urazit? 
My  nevime  o  panu  zadnem  — 
jak  vesele  dovedem  zit  a  pit, 
tak  vesele  na  poli  padnem. 

,,Slezske  ptane"  (1909) 


2.  KOVKOP. 

Ja  kopu,  ja  pod  zemi  kopu, 

ja  balvany  jak  hada  kuze  se  jiskrici  kopu, 

pod  Polskou  Ostravou  kopu. 

Kahan  mi  zhasina,  do  cela  padly 
zcuchane  vlasy  a  slepene  potem, 
octem  a  zluci  se  zaleva  oko, 
ze  zil  a  z  temena  lebky  se  kouri, 
z  pod  nehtu  cervena  lije  se  krev, 
ja  kopu,  ja  pod  zemi  kopu. 

Siroke  kladivo  do  stoly  vrazim, 

na  Salmovci  kopu, 

ja  v  Rychvalde  kopu  a  v  Petrvalde  kopu. 


PETR  BEZRUC. 


1.  KIJOV. 

Ho,  ye  youthful  swains,  topbooted  and  lithe, 
Ho,  ye  damsels  in  scarlet  wear. 
In  Kijov  town  ye  ever  were  blithe, 
And  blithe  shall  ye  ever  be  there. 

E'en  as  from  fragrant  vines  it  had  gushed, 
E'en  as  ye  seethe,  my  lays; 
The  blood  of  the  Slovaks  is  fierily  flushed, 
Lips  burn  and  eyes  are  ablaze. 

Who  shall  smite  us,  who  shall  afflict  us  with  ill? 
Of  a  master  naught  we  know; 
And  as  blithe  as  we  live  and  drink  our  fill, 
As  blithe  to  our  end  we  shall  go. 

"Silesian  Songs"  (1909). 


2.  THE  PITMAN. 

I  dig,  under  the  earth  I  dig; 

Boulders  glittering  like  the  scales  of  a  serpent  I  dig: 

Beneath  Polska  Ostrava  I  dig. 

My  lamp  is  quenched,  upon  my  brow  hass  fallen 

My  hair,  matted  and  clammy  with  sweat; 

My  eyes  are  shot  with  bitterness  and  gall; 

My  veins  and  my  skull  are  clouded  with  vapour; 

From  beneath  my  nails  gushes  forth  crimson  blood; 

Beneath  Polska  Ostrava  I  dig. 

The  broad  hammer  I  smite  upon  the  pit; 

At  Salmovec  1  dig, 

At  Rychvald  I  dig,  and  at  Petrvald  I  dig. 


PETR  BEZRUC. 

Pfi  Godule  ma  zena  mrzne  a  stena. 
na  klfne  hladova  robata  placou, 
ja  kopu,  ja  pod  zemi  kopu. 

SrSi  to  ze  itoly,  sr§i  to  z  061, 

ja  v  Dombrove  kopu,  ja  v  Orlove  kopu, 

na  Porembe  kopu  a  pod  Lazy  kopu. 

Nade  mnou,  nad  hlavou  kopyta  duni, 
grof  jede  dedinou,  komtesa  ruckou 
pohani  kone  a  smeje  se  ruzovou  tvari. 

J^i  kopu,  ja  motyku  zdviham. 

ma  zena  sinala  do  zamku  jde, 

chleba  chce,  v  prsou  kdy  vyschlo  ji  mleko. 

Dobreho  srdce  je  pan, 

z  zluteho  kamene  je  jeho  zamek, 

pod  zamkem  huci  a  lame  se  Ostravice. 

Pfed  branou  cerne  dve  suky  se  mraci. 

Na  co  sla  do  zamku  prosit  a  zebrat? 

Roste  rez  na  poli  panskem  pro  hornika  robu  ? 

Ja  v  Hrusove  kopu  a  v  Michalkovicich. 

Co  bude  z  m^ch  synku,  co  bude  z  mych  devuch, 

az  mne  raz  ze  stoly  vytahnou  mrtva? 

Muj  synek  dal  bude  kopat  a  kopat, 

na  Karvinne  kopat, 

a  dSvuchy  —  co  b^va  z  hornickych  devuch? 

Coz  kdybych  tak  jednou  prokletym  kahanem  do  Stoly  mrstil, 

sehnutou  do  vyse  narovnal  sfji, 

levici  zafal  a  vykro6il  ph'mo, 

pulkruhem  od  zeme  k  obloze  vzhuru 

kladivo  zdvihl  a  jiskfici  oci 

tarn  pod  bozim  sluncem.  ,,Slezske  tfml"  (1909). 


PETR   BEZRUC.  5 

Hard  by  Godula  my  wife  freezes  and  whimpers, 
Famishing  children  weep  at  her  bosom; 
I  dig,  under  the  earth  I  dig. 

Sparks  flash  from  the  pit,  sparks  flash  from  my  eyes; 

At  Dombrova  I  dig,  at  Orlova  I  dig, 

At  Poremba  I  dig,  and  beneath  Lazy  I  dig. 

Above  me  overhead  rings  the  clatter  of  hoofs, 

The  count  is  riding  trough  the  hamlet,  the  countess  with  dainty 

Urges  on  the  horses  and  her  rosebud  face  is  smiling,   [hand 

I  dig,  the  mattock  I  upraise; 

My  wife,  livid-faced,  trudges  to  the  castle, 

Craving  for  bread,  when  the  milk  has  dried  up  in  her  breasts. 

Good-hearted  is  my  lord, 

Of  yellow  masonry  is  his  castle, 

Beneath  the  castle  is  dinning  and  bursting  the  Ostravice. 

By  the  gates  two  black  bitches  are  scowling. 

Wherefore  she  went  to  the  castle  to  pester  and  beg? 
Grows  rye  on  my  lord's  field  for  the  drab  of  a  pitman P 
At  Hrusov  1  dig  and  at  Michalkovice. 

What  will  betide  my  sons,  what  will  betide  my  daughters, 

On  the  day  when  they  drag  out  my  corpse  from  the  pitP 

My  sons  shall  go  on  digging  and  digging, 

At  Karvinna  digging; 

And  my  daughters,  —  how  fares  it  with  daughters  of  pitmen? 

How  if  one  day  I  should  fling  my  accursed  lamp  into  the  pit, 

And  stiffen  my  bended  neck, 

Clench  my  left  hand  and  stride  forth  and  onward, 

And  in  a  sweeping  curve  from  the  earth  to  the  skyline  upwards 

Should  upraise  my  hammer  and  my  flashing  eyes, 

Yonder  beneath  God's  sunshine!  "Silesian  Songs"  (1909). 


PETR  BEZRUC 


Ja  prvy  jsem  z  toho  od  Tesfna  lidu, 

bard  prvy  od  Bezkyd,  co  promluvil. 

Jdou  za  cizfm  pluhem,  jdou  rabove  dolu, 

inleko  a  voda  jim  utika  z  zil. 

Ma  kazdy  z  nich  na  nebi  jednoho  boha, 

druheho  vetsiho  na  zemi. 

Dan  tomu,  co  hore  je,  v  kostele  plati, 

druheho  krvi  a  danemi. 

Ten,  ten  co  je  nahore,  k  ziti  da  chleba  .  .  . 

motylu  kvet  dal  a  srnce  dal  haj. 

Ty,  ty  co  jsi  vyrostl  v  Bezkydskych  horach, 

tobe  dal  pod  Lysou  ten  siry  kraj. 

On  dal  ti  ty  hory  a  dal  ti  ty  lesy, 

vuni,  jiz  z  haju  van  rozstele; 

ten  druhy  ti  vzal  vsecko  jedinym  razem, 

bez  a  plac  k  tomu  tarn  v  kostele. 

Muj  synecku  z  Bezkyd,  ctis  boha  i  vrchnost, 

dobre  to  ponese  ovoce. 

Z  tv^ch  lesu  te  vyhani  andele  strazni, 

ty  se  jim  klonis  tak  hluboce! 

,,Ty  zlodeji  z  Krasne!  Je  tvoje  to  dfevo? 

Padni  a  zem  polib  v  pokore! 

Ven  z  panskych  lesu  a  hore  do  Frydku!" 

Co  tomu  rfkas,  Ty  nahore? 

A  skareda  red  tvoje  urazi  vrchnost, 

ty  strazne  andele  urazi. 

Zahod  je,  lepe  se  povede  tobe, 

tvuj  synek  teprv  to  uvazi. 

Tak  deje  se.  Pan  chce.  Noc  tahne  nad  m^m  lidem. 

zahynem,  nez  se  rozedni. 

V  te  noci  ja  modlil  se  k  demonu  Pomsty, 

prvy  bard  Bezkyd  a  posledni. 

,,Slezske  pfsne"  (1909). 


PETR  BEZRUC.  7 

3.  I   (iii). 

I  am  the  first  of  the  Teschen  people, 

First  bard  of  the  Bezkyds  who  uttered  his  strains. 

Of  the  foreigner's  plough  and  his  mines  they  are  bondsmen. 

Watery,  milky,  the  sap  in  their  veins. 

Each  of  them  has  a  God  in  the  heavens, 

Greater  the  one  in  their  native  land. 

In  the  church  they  pay  him  on  high  their  tribute. 

To  the  other  with  blood  and  a  toil-seared  hand. 

He,  he  upon  high,  gave  thee  bread  for  thy  life's  sake, 
Gave  flowers  to  the  butterfly,  glades  to  the  doe; 
Thou,  thou  who  wert  bred  on  the  Bezkyd  mountains, 
To  him  the  broad  lands  beneath  Lysa  dost  owe. 
He  gave  thee  the  mountains  and  gave  thee  the  forests, 
The  fragrance  borne  by  the  breeze  from  the  dale; 
At  a  swoop  the  other  has  taken  all  from  thee, 
Speed  unto  him  in  yon  church,  and  wail. 

Honour  God  and  thy  masters,  my  son  from  the  Bezkyds, 

And  this  shall  yield  fair  fruit  unto  thee. 

Thou  art  chased  from  thy  forests  by  guardian  angels, 

So  humbly  to  them  thou  bendest  the  knee: 

,,Thou  thief  from  Krasna  !  Is  this  thy  timber? 

Thou  shalt  sink  down  meekly,  and  earth  shalt  thou  kiss! 

Quit  thy  lord's  forests  and  get  thee  to  Frydek!" 

Thou  upon  high,  what  sayst  thou  to  this? 

But  thine  ugly  speech  is  a  bane  to  thy  masters, 

To  those  guardian  angels  it  is  a  bane. 

Have  done  with  it,  thou  shalt  fare  the  better, 

Thy  son  shall  be  first  thereby  to  gain. 

Thus  it  is.  The  Lord  wills  it.  Night  sank  o'er  my  people 

We  shall  perish  before  the  night  has  passed. 

In  this  night.  I  have  prayed  to  the  Demon  of  Vengeance, 

The  first  of  the  Bezkyd  bards  and  the  last. 

"Silesian  Songs"  (1909). 


OTAKAR  BREZINA. 


1.  POHLED  SMRTI. 

U  hlav  loze  a  v  soumracich  tuseni,  mnohokrat,  vim, 
pohled  muj  zhasinal  pred  vitezn^m  pohledem  tv^m. 

V  mem  slabosf  a  touha,  smich  ocele  blystici  v  tvem, 
a  v  jeho  zrcadle  myslenku  vlastni  uvidel  jsem. 

v 

Sla  bleda  a  zmatena  v  dalku  zavatych  neznamych  Mest 
do  Sera  a  polarnich  noci  nSmou  unavou  cest. 

Uzkosf  nejistoty  tuhla  ji  v  tvar  a  ve^nych  prostoru  chlad 
na  zmucene  udy  spinal  ji,  umdlene,  kovovy  sat. 

V  zahyby  mizicich  tvaru  mlhami  ze  zraku  tvych, 

jak  z  kvetu  mystickeho  stromu  strasal  se  privalem  snih, 

a  houstl  a  temnel,  zar  do  sebe  vpijel  a  slehal  a  val, 
na  ranach  me  myslenky  jak  v  narudlych  plamenech  tal. 

U  hlav  loze  a  v  soumracich  tuseni,  mnohokrat,  vim, 
pohled  muj  zhasinal  pred  utkvelym  pohledem  tv^m. 

Jak  somnambul  svedeny  z  loze,  bledy,  spoutan  a  nem 
pod  hypnosou  Nepoznaneho  jdu  se  sv^m  snem 

a  pfede  mnou  chvi  se  v  umdlen^ch  rukou  m^ch  dni, 
zraky  tv^mi  rozzata  svetla  pohrebnich  pochodni. 

..Tajemne  Jdlky"  (1895). 


OTAKAR  BREZINA. 


GAZE  OF  DEATH 

At  bed-sides,  in  dusk  of  forebodings,  many  a  time,  I  know, 
Before  thy  conquering  gaze  has  my  gaze  been  laid  low. 

In  mine  was  frailness  and  yearning,  flashing  steel's  mirth  in  thine, 
And  in  its  mirror  my  own  pondering  I  could  divine. 

To  far-hidden,  unknown  cities,  pale  and  bewildered  it  went 
In  gloom  and  polar  nights  with  journeyings  mute  and  forspent. 

It  stared  with  anguish  of  doubt,  and  the  cold  of  eternal  space 
Its  tortured  and  wearied  limbs  in  a  metal  garb  did  enlace. 

Mid  folds  of  vanishing  shapes  from  thine  eyes  through  misty  rifts 
As  from  bloom  of  a  mystical  tree  snow  was  scattered  in  drifts, 

And  thickened  and  darkened,  and  quaffing  of  lustre  it  scoured 

and  gnawed 
At  scars  of  my  ponderings,  as  in  flames  it  crimsonly  thawed. 

At  bed-sides,  in  dusk  of  forebodings,  many  a  time,  I  know 
Before  thy  motionless  gaze  has  my  gaze  been  laid  low. 

As  a  sleep-walker  lured  from  his  bed,  pallid,  fettered  and  dumb 
My  dream  do  I  follow,  and  me  an  Unknown's  promptings 

benumb. 

And  in  wearied  hands  of  my  days,  aquiver  before  me  arise 
Lights  of  funeral  torches  enkindled  by  thine  eyes. 

"Secret  Distances"   (1895). 


10  OTAKAR  BREZINA. 

2.  NALADA. 

v 

Sum  zarem  umdleny  na  vetve  tihou  naleh' 
a  visel  bez  hnuti,  co  v  tesknych  intervalech 
les  dychal  pritiskly  a  potu  hofky  prival 
z  rozprysklych  zeleni  mu  hrubou  vuni  splyval. 
Sla  bleda  linava  pod  stromy  nehybnymi, 
po  bok  mi  usedla,  v  tvar  dechla  tusenimi, 
stesk  vecne  otazky  mi  v  zraky  ponorila 
a  feci  mrtvych  slov  s  mou  dusi  hovorila. 
Kvet  slunce  pfezraly  do  bilych  zaru  svadal, 
v  ser  haluzf  se  Iras'  a  modrym  listim  padal 
v  tich  apatickych  neme  vysileni,  v  mechu 
se  rozdoutnal  a  lazni  tajemneho  dechu 
mne  mdlobou  kolebal,  jak  pod  vlnami 
krev  z  otevfen^ch  zil  by  tise  finula  mi. 

..SviYa'm'  na  zdpade"  (1896). 

3.  LEGENDA  TAJEMNE  V1NY. 

Jas  hodin  mych  budoucich  ozaril  chvili  tu  v  snech 

a  vsemi  svicemi  lustru  rozkvetl  v  dm  m^ch  slavnostni  saly : 

tarn  prystela  hudba  m^ch   budoucich  jar  a    stajen^ch 

neh, 
rtu,  ktere  mne  opoji,  jiskril  tarn  smich  a   mainil   tarn 

dech, 
a  zraky,  v  nichz  ceka  mne  mlceni  rozkose  s  touhou  tarn 

plaly. 

Vlak  marne  jsem  kracel,  kde  v  zavratnych  rytmech  se 

tfas' 
zpev  Zitf.  Stin  Nekoho,  jenz  za  mnou  sel,  prede  mnou 

sply  val ; 

sel  ze  salu  do  salu,  kam  vkrocil,  zeh  svetelny  has', 
zrcadla  temnela,  touha  se  zachvela  a  hudby  vitezn^  hlas 
jak  srazen  v  nejnizsi  oktavy  uzkosti  neme  se  slival, 


OTAKAR  B&EZINA.  II 

2.  A  MOOD. 

Faint  with  the  heat,  a  murmur  on  the  calm  branches  falls, 
Motionless  hanging,  while  in  grievous  intervals 
The  forest  breathed,  oppressed;  sap  in  a  bitter  tide 
From  the  burst  herbage  let  crude-savoured  fragrance  glide. 
'Neath  the  unmoving  trees  pale  faintness  sought  a  place, 
Sat  by  my  side  and  breathed  forebodings  in  my  face, 
Grief  of  the  ceaseless  question  in  my  eyes  immersed, 
And  with  my  soul  in  speech  of  lifeless  words  conversed. 
The  sun's  o'erripened  bloom  quivered  in  glows  of  white, 
Quailed  in  the  dusk  of  boughs  and  'mid  blue  leaves  took  flight 
With  listless  calm's  mute  wane  of  strength;  in  mosses  hid 
It  smouldered,  lulling  me  in  weariness  amid 
A  bath  of  mystic  breath,  as  though  'neath  wawes  I  lay, 
And  from  my  opened  veins  blood  softly  oozed  away. 

"Dawning  in  the  West"  (1896). 

3.  LEGEND  OF  SECRET  GUILT. 

Flash  of  my  coming  hours  illumined  this  moment  in  dreams 
And  bloomed  in  my  festive  halls  with  every  lustre  ablaze, 
My  coming  springtides  and  hidden  graces  rippled  in  tuneful 

streams, 
1  was  dazed  by  lips,  with  breath  that  beguiles,  with  laughter 

that  gleams, 

And  eyes  where  awaited  me  muteness  of  rapture  glowed  there 

with  yearning  gaze. 

But  vainly  I  strode  where  quivered,  in  rhythms  that  dumbfound, 
Life's  chant.  The  shadow  of  One  before  me  and  after  me 

wended, 
Flitting   from  hall  unto  hall,   bright  blaze  at  its  coming  was 

drowned, 
Mirrors  grew  dim,  yearning  trembled  and  music's  conquering 

sound 
As  if  thrust  into  lowliest  octaves  of  silent  anguish  was  blended. 


12  OTAKAR  BREZINA. 

O  dule  ma,  odkud  on  prisel?  A  kolik  stale ti  snad 
mych  predku  dusemi  prochazel,  nez  dosel  az  ke 
Na  kolik  svatebnfch  stolu  jak  ubrus  koberec  rekvif  klad? 
Na  kolik  ruzov^ch  usmevu  dechl  svuj  podzemni  chlad? 
A  v  kolika  lampach  plamenem  soli  a  lihu  sesinal  temne? 

,,5vi7dm'na  zdpade"  (1896). 


4.  BRATRSTVI  VERICICH. 

Myslenky  nase  koupaly  se  v  ohniv^ch  vlndch  svateho  leta, 
jez  rozpaluje  blankyty  dusi  zarem  vSech  srpnu  a  zranim  v§ech 

hv^zd. 
A  kdyz  smyly  sva  bolestna  znameni  zeme,  povstaly  v  Cistote 

prvotnich  svetel, 
a  poznaly  silne  rozkose  casu:   deck  jeho  byl  sladky    nadeji 

mrtvych 

a  tajemnou  vichfici  vrelo  v  n?m  raseni  pupencu  v§ech  budoucich 

zahrad. 

Dni,  ktere  nemely  jiter,  z  dalky  n£m  hodily  svetla  jak  echa  stalete 

touhy, 

silili  jsme  silenstvim  lasky,  jez  byla  modlitbou  k  Nejvyssimu. 
Ze  rtu  nasich  sladkost  jeji  se  tryskla  a  pfece  horely  posvatnou 

zizni. 
Zraky  nase  ji  pily  z  bratrskych  zraku  a  pohledum  bratff  ji  davaly 

piti 

a  v  rozechveni  nezname  blizkosti  krvi  nam  zvonila  hudbami 

tajemstvi. 


OTAKAR  BREZINA.  13 

O  my  soul,  whence  came  it?  And  how  many  centuries  has  it 

passed 

Haply  through  souls  of  my  forefathers,  ere  unto  me  it  came? 
On  how  many  marriage-tables  as  a  requiem-cloth  was  it  cast? 
On  how  many  rose-hued  smiles  came  its  chill  and  earthen  blast  ? 
And  in  how  many  lamps  did  it  blanch  amid  salt  and  essence 

of  flame? 
"Dawning  in  the  West"  (1896) 


4.  THE  BROTHERHOOD  OF  THE  BELIEVERS. 

Our  ponderings  have  bathed  in  fiery  waves  of  a  sacred  summer, 
Which  kindles  azure  of  souls  with  glow  of  all  August-tides 

and  ripening  of  all  stars. 

And  when  they  had  cleansed  away  their  grievous  tokens  of 

earth,  they  rose  up  in  purity  of  earliest  radiances. 

And  fathomed  potent  blisses  of  time :  its  breath  was  sweet  with 

hope  of  the  dead 

And  with  baffling  tempest  seethed  therein  budding  burgeons 

of  all  gardens  to  be. 

Days  that  were  void  of  mornings  from  distances  cast  lights  upon 

us,  like  time-old  echoes  of  yearning, 
We  were  frenzied  with  frenzy  of  love,  that  was  an  orison  to 

the  Highest. 
From  our  lips  trickled  its  sweetness  and  yet  burned  with  sacred 

thirst 
Our  eyes  drank  thereof  from  brotherly  eyes  and  to  our  brothers' 

gazes  gave  it  to  drink 

And  in  unknown  quivering  nearness  of  blood  chimed  to  us  with 

riddling  music. 


14  OTAKAR  BREZINA. 

Sny  nase  se  spojily  v  jedine  sneni  a  sumely  tisici  stromu  jednoho 

hvozdu, 
kdyz  tresenim  vetvi  podavaji  si  poselstvi  jednoho  vetru  z  ne- 

znamych  mori. 
Na  nasich  loukach  lezela  vune  vsech  kvetu,  sladena  v  jeden 

slozity  akkord, 
a  svetla  nasich  dusi.   nalita   v  jidiny  plapol,    odela    barvami 

neviditelnd 
a  hlasem  vsech  nasich  spojenych  vuli  nam  v  zazracne  zahrady 

rozkvetly  sily. 

I  trhali  jsme  sva  opojeni,  jak  zrna  na  jedinem,  mystickem  hroznu, 

jez  dotknutim  pukala  vytryskem  jednoho  vina: 

jablka  jednoho  stromu,  jez  rozfiznuta  spolecnou,  nasi  krvi  se 

zardi, 
polibky  jedine  noci,  v  nichz  duse  zpivaji  o  smrti  a  budoucich 

zitich, 
v  jedinem  rozplani  retfl,  na  veky  nemocnych  rozkosi  jednoho 

blesku. 
,,V£try  od  Polu"  (1897). 


5.  ZEM? 

Svet  rozklada  se  za  svetem, 

za  hvezdou  hvezda,  kdyz  pulnoc  se  tmi, 

a  mezi  nimi  je  jeden,  krouzi  kolem*bileho  slunce, 

a  let  jeho  hudbou,  tajemne  radosti  hfmi, 

a  duse  tech,  ktefi  nejvice  trpeli, 

do  neho  vejiti  smi. 


OTAKAR  BREZINA.  15 

Our  dreams  were  merged  in  a  single  dreaming  and  myriad  trees 

of  a  single  forest  rustled, 
When  by  their  tremour  the  boughs  one  to  the  other  give  tidings 

of  a  single  wind  from  unknown  oceans. 
Upon  our  meadows  lay  fragrance  of  all  blossoms,  sweetened 

into  a  single  welded  accord, 

And  radiance  of  our  souls,  fused  into  a  single  flaring,  they  invi- 
sibly garbed  with  colours 

And  by  the  voice  of  all  our  united  wishes  in  marvellous  gardens 

powers  blossomed  unto  us. 

« 

And  we  culled  our  rapture,  like  fruit  on  a  single  bewildering 

cluster, 

That  burst  at  the  touch  in  the  spurting-forth  of  a  single  wine: 
Apples  from  a  single  tree,  which  cleft,  are  aflush  with  blood 

they  share  with  ours, 
Kisses  of  a  single  night,  wherein  souls  sing  of  death  and  coming 

lives, 
In  a  single  melting  of  lips,  age-long  infirm  with  bliss  of  a  single 

flash. 
"Polar  Winds"  (1897). 


5.  EARTH? 

World  stretches  onward  unto  world, 

Star  unto  star,  when  gloom  of  midnight  is  here, 

And  one  there  is  in  their  midst,  revolving  around  a  white  sun, 

And  its  soaring  thunders  in  music  of  mystical  cheer, 

And  the  souls  of  then  that  have  suffered  the  most 

May  venture  amid  its  sphere. 


76  OTAKAR  BREZINA. 

Sta  bratfi  feklo :  Zname  tajemstvf  jeho, 

mrtvi  v  nem  vstavaji  ze  sna,  zivi  v  nem  zmiraji  snem; 

milenci  fekli:  Prilisnou  zaff  oslepi  zraky 

a  cas  jako  vune  neznam^ch  kvetu  kazdeho  usmrti  v  nem ; 

a  ti,  kteri  dovedli  videti  tisicileti, 

s  usmevem  ptaji  se :  Zem  ? 

,,Sta\>itele  chrdmu"  (1899). 


6.  JARNI  NOC. 

Noc  tise  zpivala,  sum  prvnich  zeleni  a  jarnich  vod 

byl  jeji  melancholicke  pisne  doprovod; 

ve  vysi  hvezdy,  svetelne  kalichy  nesmirne, 

dychaly  tezkou  vuni  nadzemskych  vegetaci, 

a  ruce  bratn  mych,  jak  pfi  smrti  na  prsou  zkrizene, 

lezely  tiche  a  zklamane  a  jako  kamen  stizene, 

zlomeny  praci. 

Vsak  jejich  ruce  duchove  k  hvSzdam  se  rozpjaly, 

miliony  dusi  na  zemi  a  ve  vsech  svetech  objaly 

a  dlouhy  oddech  radostn^ch  procitnuti, 

svatecni  vfeni  vecneho  mesta, 

duchovych  kndel  sumeni,  hra  vetru  v  mystickem  oseni, 

orchestru  neviditelnych  zapeni, 

zdvihlo  se  v  taktu  jejich  tajuplneho  gesta. 

,,Ruce"  (1901). 


OTAKAR  BREZINA.  17 

Hundreds  of  brethren  spake :  We  have  fathomed  its  secret, 
Dead  arise  therein  from  slumber,  living  in  slumber  therein  are 

dead; 

Lovers  spake:  Blinded  are  eyes  by  an  over- great  lustre 
And  all  are  slain  there  by  time,  as  by  fragrance  that  unknown 

blossoms  have  shed; 

And  they  who  had  skill  to  gaze  through  the  ages, 
,,EarthP"  with  a  questioning  smile,  they  said. 

"The  Temple  Builders"  (1899). 


6.  SPRING  NIGHT. 

Night  softly  sang,  murmur  of  early  grass  and  springtide  rains 

Mingled  its  music  with  melancholy  of  her  strains; 

On  high  the  stars,  radiant  calyces  unbounded. 

Breathed  heavy  scent  of  herbage  unknown  to  earthly  soil, 

And  my  brethren's  hands,  crossed  as  in  death  upon  their  breast, 

Lay  in  stillness  and  delusion  like  unto  a  stone  oppressed, 

Smitten  with  toil. 

But  their  spirit-hands  to  reach  unto  the  stars  were  braced, 
Myriad  souls  upon  the  earth  and  in  all  worlds  they  enlaced 
Ard  a  long  sigh  of  joyous  awakenings, 
A  deathless  town's  solemn  throes, 

Rustling  of  spirit-wings,  winds  at  play  in  mystical  seedling- 
Unseen  orchestras'  intoning  sound,  [ground, 
Moving  in  tune  with  their  secret  gesture  arose. 

"The  Hands"  (1901). 


18 

J.  S.  MACHAR. 

1.  DUMA. 

Jen  nekolik  let  —  kosti  vykopaji 
a  pohodi  je  nekde  v  kostnici, 
kdy  pisni  mojich  zvuky  tez  se  staji, 
jak  v  haji  zpev,  kdyz  zmizi  slavici. 

Zda  potom  nekdo  vezme  prazdnou  lebku 
jak  Hamlet  ve  svou  chve"jici  se  dlan 
a  zahledi  se  mych  dum  na  kolebku, 
jez  prirode  svou  zaplatila  dan? 

Zda  vycte  myslenek  tam  ruznych  sledy, 
muk  lasky  pozna  a  vsech  strasti  byt, 
zda  povi  mu  ten  celisti  kruh  bledy, 
ze  i  to  celo  vavrin  chtelo  mit? 

Zda  otaze  se,  kde  ten  duch,  jenz  plase 
chtel  peruti  az  k  hvezdam  povzletnout? 
Eh!  pfefika  snad  kousek  otcenase 
a  sinou  lebku  hodi  v  tmavy  kout! 

,,Confiteor"  (1887). 


2.  SONET  RIJNOVY. 

Uz  jenom  roztesknena  elegie 
z  te  zeme.vla  zpod  slojifovych  par  .  .  . 
Uvadla  kraska  ve  vsech  koutech  kryje 
uvadle  kvety,  pamatky  svych  jar. 

A  pfec  ta  touha:  dal  se  libit  —  zije 
v  ni  jeste;  dosud  neschlad  nitra  zar, 
pestre  si  serpy  kolem  tela  vije 
a  do  vlasu  si  sazi  aster  par; 


79 
J.  S.  MACHAR. 

*1.  BROODING. 

A  few  more  years,  —  and  they  will  drag  my  bones, 
And  let  them  in  a  charnel-house  be  shed, 
After  my  melodies  have  hushed  their  tones, 
Mute  as  a  grove,  whence  nightingales  have  fled. 

Will  someone  then  the  empty  skull  upraise 
Upon  his  trembling  hand,  with  Hamlet's  view 
Amid  the  cradle  of  my  dreams  to  gaze, 
That  has  to  nature  paid  its  final  due? 

Will  he  mark  out  each  divers  track  of  thought, 
The  irk  of  love,  and  all  the  anguish  there? 
And  will  the  pallid  jawbone  tell  him  aught 
Of  laurels  that  this  brow  was  fain  to  wear? 

And  will  he  wonder  where  the  soul  may  lag 
That  once  urged  on  its  wings  to  starward  flight? 
Pooh!  He  will  mumble  forth  some  pious  tag, 
And  cast  the  livid  skull  away  from  sight! 

"Confileor"  (1887). 


2.  OCTOBER  SONNET. 

Only  an  anguished  melody  still  flows 

From  earth  where  hazes  cast    a  veiling  net  .  . 

In  every  nook  the  faded  beauty  stows 

Her  faded  blooms,  lest  springtide  she  forget. 

But  the  desire,  still  more  to  gladden,  glows 
Within;  unchilled  her  inmost  ardour  yet, 
And  gaudy  sashes  round  her  waist  she  throws 
And  asters  in  her  tresses  she  has  set; 


20  J.  S.  MACHAR. 

a  smat  se  chce,  jak  smavala  se  kdysi  — 
vsak  ve  vraskach  ji  tuhne  tento  smich 
a  uz  z  nich  jenom  soucit,  soucit  zada  .  .  . 

A  ona  vse  to  tuli  as  a  hada: 
Sta  slz  vzdy  z  rana  po  satu  ji  visi 
v  probdele  teskne  noci  prolitych. 

,,Ctyfi  knihy  sonetit"  (1890—1892* 


3.  ZAJEZD  AVARSKY. 

Vsi  horf  vzadu.  Nebe  cerno  dymem. 
Plamenne  proudy  z  daleka  se  liji 
po  zralem  obili  a  trave  lucin. 
A  z  mist  tech  valf  hlucici  se  mra6no 
avarskych  lidi.  Sikmooci  jezdci 
se  pohupuji  volne  na  konicfch, 
neb  bezpecno  je.  A  jsou  spokojeni. 
Jsou  oveseni  kalichy  a  krizi, 
relikviifi,  svicny,  konvicemi, 
ornaty,  plasti,  pohary  a  satstvem. 
Krav  buceni  a  mekot  koz  a  ovci, 
jez  vedeny  jsou  v  stredu  bojovniku, 
zni  jako  lib  a  hudba  sluchu  jejich. 
A  kazdy  vle6e,  otodiv  si  vlasy 
jak  provazy  kol  kostnate  s\6  ruky, 
tri,  £tyri  zeny,  jez  jsou  zcela  nahy 
a  zkrvaceny,  nebof  nadra  jejich 
jsou  vesmes  kolmou  ranou  probodana. 

..Barbafi"  (1911). 


/.  5.  MA  CHAR.  21 

And  she  would  laugh,  as  she  has  laughed  of  old  — 
But  'mid  her  wrinkles  laughter  numbly  fled 
And  from  them  only  pity,  pity  cries  .  .  . 

Divining,  this  perchance  she  can  surmise: 
Each  morn  a  hundred  tears  her  garb  enfold, 
That  in  her  sleepless,  anguished  night  are  shed. 

"Four  books  of  sonnets"  (1890—1892). 


3.  AVAR  INROAD. 

Villages  rearward  burn.  Smoke-black  the  sky. 

Torrents  of  flame  pour  onward  from  afar 

Over  the  ripened  corn  and  meadow-grass. 

And  from  these  places  rolls  a  rumbling  cloud 

Of  Avar  soldiery.  The  slant-eyed  horsemen 

Sway  buoyantly  upon  their -horses,  for 

There  is  no  peril.  And  they  are  content, 

Laden  with  goblets  and  with  crucifixes, 

With  reliquiaries,  candalabra,  cruses, 

With  vestments,  mantles,  flagons  and  apparel. 

Lowing  of  cows  and  bleat  of  goats  and  sheep 

Which  are  borne  on  amid  the  warriors, 

Ring  out  like  sweetest  music  in  their  ears. 

And  each  one  drags  along,  having  entwined 

Tresses  like  ropes  around  his  bony  hand, 

Three  or  four  women,  naked  utterly 

And  with  their  blood  bedabbled,  for  their  breasts 

With  a  sheer  wound  are  all  pierced  through  and  through. 

"The  Barbarians"  (1911). 


22  J.  S.  MACHAR. 

4.  PASQUINO  NA  SMRT  PAPEZE 
"  HADRIANA  VI. 

Hadrian  mrtev?  Jehlou  probodnete 
hned  srdce  jeho  —  at  je  mrtev  zjista. 
A  ze  je  mrtev,  dvakrat,  tfikrat  rcete, 
af  mozno  verit,  ze  to  pravda  cista. 

Hadrian  mrtev!  Kdo  jsi^ducha  ctneho, 
vstan,  jdi,  kam  sborem  Run  se  vali  cety, 
pred  dum,  kde  bydli  lekaf  zesnuleho, 
hold  vzdati  vlasti  osvoboditeli ! 

,,Pohamke  Plameny"  (1911). 


5.  CROMWELL  U  MRTVOLY  KARLA  I. 

To  silne  zdrave  telo  slibovalo 

beh  dlouhy  ziti  .  .  .  Jako  krale  Saula 

Hospodin  obdaril  jej  dary  vsemi 

a  jako  Saula  soudem  sv^m  jej  soudil  .  .  . 

My  hlasem  Jeho  byli,  mecem  Jeho. 

On  pouze  propujcuje  kralum  vladu 

a  lidu  moc  da,  aby  krale  soudil, 

neb  kralova  moc  roste  pouze  z  lidu. 

A  ze  byl  tento  Stuart  zradcem,  vrahem, 

tyranem,  nepritelem  lidu  sveho, 

odesel  od  neho  duch  Hospodinuv 

a  nam  jej  na  soud  odevzdal  hnevjeho. 

Tak  po  pfiklade  casu  starodavnych 

a  k  pfikladu  vsem  vekum,  ktere  pfijdou, 

byl  osud  tela  toho  .  .  .  Lid  je  Bohu 

jak  zrftelnice  drahy,  zvlasf  pak  v  case, 

kdyz  Hospodin  mu  na  soud  vyda  krale  .  .  . 

Lez,  klam  a  podvod  byly  zbrani  jeho 

a  zlomeny  jsou,  jak  se  lame  trtina, 


/.  5.  MA  CHAR.  23 

.  PASQUINO  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  POPE 
HADRIAN  VI. 

Hadrian  dead?  Then  thrust  a  bodkin  straight 
Into  his  heart,  that  he  be  dead  in  sooth; 
And  on  the  tidings  twice  or  thrice  dilate, 
To  fix  belief  that  it  is  sober  truth. 

Hadrian  dead!  Rise,  honest  souls,  and  go 
Where  Rome  all  throngs  in  one  united  band, 
To  his  physician's  dwelling,  to  bestow 
Homage  on  him  who  freed  his  native  land. 

"The  Pagan  Flames"  (191  I). 


5.  CROMWELL  AT  THE  CORPSE  OF  CHARLES  I. 

The  strength  and  soundness  ot  this  body  promised 
Long  course  of  life  .  .  .  Even  as  on  King  Saul, 
The  Lord  bestowed  all  gifts  on  him,  and  him, 
Even  as  Saul  He  sentenced  with  His  sentence  . . . 
We  were  the  voice  of  Him,  the  sword  of  Him. 
He  doth  but  lend  authority  to  kings, 
But  gives  the  people  power  to  judge  a  king; 
For  kingly  power  thrives  only  from  the  people. 
And  since  this  Stuart  was  a  murderer, 
A  traitor,  tyrant,  foe  unto  his  people, 
The  spirit  of  the  Lord  departed  from  him, 
And  him  His  wrath  delivered  to  our  judgment. 
Thus,  after  the  exemplar  of  old  times, 
And  as  exemplar  to  all  coming  ages 
Hath  been  this  body's  fate  .  .  .  The  people  are 
E'en  as  the  apple  of  God's  eye,  and  most 
When  the  Lord  yields  a  king  unto  their  judgment... 
Falsehood,  deceit  and  feigning  were  his  weapons, 
And  they  are  broken  as  a  reed  doth  break; 


24  J.  S.  MACHAR. 

a  odenci  a  sluzebnici  jeho 
jak  klasy  lehli  ostrim  mecu  nasich  . . . 
Ted  zmuzile  jen  dal  po  rade  bozi 
a  shladme  s  tvari  zeme  nasi  vsechny, 
kdoz  v  zpupne  pyse  proti  lidu  stoji  — 
a  bude  Buh  mit  glorii  svou  potom 
a  bozi  pozehnani  zeme  nase. 
Duveru  vrouci  mejme  v  Hospodina 
a  prach  svych  puiek  udrzujme  v  suchu! 

,,Apo$tolo\€"  (191 1). 


6.  SHAKESPEARE. 

Nuz,  hleJte  sem! 

Zde  soudce  spravedlivy 
ve  stredu  kralu,  panu,  rytifu, 
zen  milujicich,  vzteklych  furii, 
zebraku,  blaznu,  tichych  filosofu, 
pijaku  femeslnych,  zoldnefu 
a  carodejnic,  elfu  z  pohadky  - 

vsem  duse  bedne  svlekl  do  naha, 
ze  stoji  tu  jak  krisfal  pruhledni, 
vsem  otevira  nitra  svedomi, 
by  ukazal,  co  bylo  poslednim 
duvodem  6inu  jejich. 

Neni  pak 

pfed  tvafi  jeho  prijimani  osob: 
od  krale  mocneho  az  k  zebraku, 
jenz  bidu  svoji  vle£e  ulici, 
je  vse  jen  dlovek,  Soudi  dlov^ka 
a  orteluje  nezvratne  jak  Osud; 
krev  prolit  da,  a  jest  jen  nahodou, 


/.  S.  MA  CHAR.  25 

And  all  his  men-at-arms  and  servitors 

Bowed  them  like  sheaves  before  our  smiting  swords . . . 

Now  staunchly  onward,  ever  in  God's  counsel, 

And  from  the  earth  blot  we  out  all  amongst  us 

Who  in  base  pride  run  counter  to  the  people, 

And  God  thereof  shall  have  his  glory,  and 

A  godly  benison  this  land  of  ours. 

Cherish  we  glowing  trust  upon  the  Lord, 

And  keep  the  powder  in  our  muskets  dry! 

"The  Apostles"  (1911). 


6.  SHAKESPEARE. 

Now  gaze  ye  hither! 

Lo,  a  righteous  judge 

Set  in  the  midst  of  monarchs,  lords  and  knights, 
Amorous  women,  raging  termagants, 
Mendicants,  fools,  placid  philosophers, 
Carousing  artisans,  hired  soldiery, 
Wizards  and  elfin  sprites  from  fairy-land. 

The  wretched  soul  he  utterly  stripped  bare, 
Leaving  it  clear  as  crystal.  Utterly 
The  inmost  parts  of  conscience  he  revealed 
That  he  might  show  whereby  in  very  sooth 
Its  deeds  were  prompted. 

Nor  can  bias  hold 

Sway  over  men  before  his  countenance: 
From  the  great  king  unto  the  mendicant 
Who  drags  his  misery  along  the  street, 
All  are  but  man.  He  judges  man  and  passes 
Sentence  as  unrelentingly  as  Fate: 
He  has  blood  spilt,  and  it  is  naught  but  hazard 


26  J.S.MACHAR. 

ze  casto  by\a  krev  to  urozen^ch, 
i  kralovska  krev  hrichy  zcernala. 
I  krale  mozno  soudit,  pravi  prisne 
a  casern  nutno  soudit. 


Spravedlnost, 

jez  v  zoldu  mocnych  sveta  toho  jest, 
jim  odsouzena  k  trestu  pranyfe. 
On  ctnostem,  jimz  se  pali  kadidlo, 
strh  zruzovelou  masku  s  obliceje 
a  ejhle,  nevestky  to  bezstoudne 
a  vsechny  maji  hlavy  umrlcf, 
jichz  v^dech  pachne  hrobnim  zapachem. 
On  tresce  zlo,  jez  v  otraveny  kvet 
ze  hrudi  lidske  bylo  vyspelo, 
a  tresce  to  i,  jez  se  nevinne 
tarn  chouli  v  nerozvitem  poupeti. 

A  neni  odvolani  z  soudu  jeho; 
nebesa,  slunce,  hvezdy,  cely  svet  — 
ti  divaky  jen  soudu  jeho  jsou. 
A  bun?  Vzdyf  je-li,  i  svuj  bozsky  soud 
moh'  vyslovovat  by  jen  jeho  rtem! 

,,Af>osiolove"  (1911). 


7.  A.  DURER  MALUJICI  HLAVU 
SPASITELOVU. 

1526. 

J  a  hledam  Tebe,  zmuceny  muj  Pane, 
po  sv2te  sirem  —  hledam,  nenalezam; 
co  clovek  tady,  tygrem  jest  ci  hadem, 
vzdy  jednim  z  zvefe,  kterou  Jabel  pase. 


/.  5.  MAC HA R.  27 

If  oft  'tis  wont  to  be  the  blood  of  rank, 
And  royal  blood  sullied  with  sins.  For  he 
Can  even  judge  a  king  and  sternly  pass 
Verdict  upon  him,  and  thereof  is  need 
At  sundry  seasons. 

Righteousness,  the  which 
Is  in  the  pay  of  this  world's  potentates, 
By  him  is  sentenced  to  the  pillory. 
From  virtue,  which  has  incense  burnt  before  it, 
The  rose-hued  mask  he  wrenches,  and  behold, 
Abandoned  strumpets,  having  each  and  all, 
A  death's  head,  and  the  breathing  of  them  reeks 
With  stenches  of  the  tomb.  He  punisheth 
Evil  which  to  a  poisoned  flower  has  bred 
Thrivingly  out  of  mortal  breast.  And  that 
He  likewise  punisheth,  which  guiltlessly 
Is  there  entwined  in  the  unshapen  bud. 

And  from  his  judgment  there  is  no  appeal: 
The  sky,  the  sun,  the  stars  and  all  the  world,   - 
These  are  but  the  beholders  of  his  judgments. 
And  God?  If  such  there  be,  then  e'en  God's  judgment 
Can  be  pronounced  but  by  the  lips  of  him! 

"The  Apostles"  (19 II). 


7.  A.  DURER  PAINTING  THE  SAVIOUR'S 
HEAD. 

1526. 

Thee  do  I  seek  for,  O  my  tortured  Lord, 
Through  the  wide  world, —  I  seek,  but  do  not  find; 
Tiger-like,  serpent-like  is  man,  and  aye, 
One  of  the  brood  the  devil  pastureth, 


28  J.  S.MAC HA  R. 


A  prece  —  racis  sidliti-li  v  svete  - 
jen  duse  lidska  pribytkem  je  Tvojim, 
jak  Luther  ma  ji,  bozi  muz  a  sluha, 
ci  Melanchton,  ta  moudrosti  Tve  vcela. 

Muj  Pane  zmuceny,  ja  nejsem  hoden, 

bys  pod  strechu  mou  vesel  —  —  Ty  vSak,  Lasko 

pfec  vchazis  mile.  V  chvilich  nejkrasnejsich 

j3  citim,  kterak  v  komnate  me"  duse 

Ty  odpocivas,  okem  svym  se  divas, 

mym  dechem  tise  oddychovat  racii  — 

a  proto  smim  Tve  nejsvetejsi  hlave 
sve  tahy  dati,  milostny  muj  Pane! 

,,Af>oslolove"  (191 1). 


/.  S.  MA  CHAR.  29 

Yet,  deignest  Thou  to  sojourn  in  the  world, 

Only  a  human  soul  is  Thine  abode, 

As  Luther,  man  and  servitor  of  God, 

Or  Melanchthon,  who  is  Thy  wisdom's  bee. 

My  tortured  Lord,  I  am  not  worthy  that 
Thou  shouldest  come  beneath  my  roof.  But  Thou, 
O  Love,  yet  graciously  approaches!.  In 
Most  wondrous  moments  do  I  feel  that  Thou 
Dost  take  Thine  ease  amid  the  chamber  of 
My  spirit;  with  mine  eyes  Thou  gazest.  Thou 
Vouchsafest  gently  with  my  breath  to  breathe. 

Wherefore  to  Thy  most  hallowed  head  I  dare 
To  give  my  lineaments,  most  gracious  Lord! 

"The  Apostles"  (1911). 


30 

ANTONIN  SOVA. 

1.  PRVNI  KONCERT. 

Jiz  vystoup*  v  cernem  sate  bledy 
a  slech'  jak  hovor  pod  nim  stichal, 
vzduch  parfumy  a  horkem  dychal, 
sal  svetly  horel  tmavohnedy.  — 

A  dole  pred  nim  jako  v  pyri 
v  hedvabi,  krajkach,  musselinu, 
pul  ve  svetle  a  zpola  v  stinu, 
dam  rad  se  v  polokruhu  sifi. 

Vlas  tmavy,  zlaty,  vse  to  splyv^; 
ty  zhave  oci,  rude  rety! 
Hie,  cernych  fraku  silhouetty, 
hie,  lorgnetu  skla  zadostiva! 

Vznes'  housle  a  jiz  tony  spiji 
vzduch  stiseny  svou  hloubkou  plnou, 
v  klaviru  akkord  mekkou  vlnou 
vpad'  jasave  a  s  energii.  — 

Vsak  mistr  jeho,  kdysi  slavny^ 
se  rozechven  kams  v  chodby  ztratil, 
jej  pocit  strachu  nahle  schvatil, 
vzpominal  na  svuj  debut  davny. 

Ctel  uniknouti  kritik  hlasu, 
i  potlesku  i  hanobeni, 
i  zavisti,  jez  zub  svuj  ceni, 
a  chce-li,  do  prachu  rve  krasu. 


31 

ANTON  IN  SOVA. 

1.  THE  FIRST  CONCERT. 

Pallid,  in  black  array  he  strode 
And  marked  the  hush  beneath  his  feet, 
The  air  breathed  perfume  out  and  heat, 
The  hall  with  russet  lustre  glowed.  — 

Gossamer-like  before  him  shed. 
In  muslin,  silk  and  lace  arrayed, 
Half  in  the  light  and  half  in  shade, 
Ladies  in  semi-circle  spread. 

Billows  of  dark  and  golden  hair; 
These  scarlet  lips,  these  eyes  on  fire! 
See,  silhouettes  of  black  attire, 
See,  the  lorgnettes  with  gloating  stare! 

His  violin  with  dazing  spell 

Grips  the  hushed  air  in  deep  refrains, 

From  the  piano  gentle  strains 

In  waves  of  joy  and  potence  fell.  - 

His  master,  whose  renown  is  o'er 
Astray  within  some  passage  quakes, 
In  sudden  dread  within  him  wakes 
His  debut  in  the  days  of  yore. 

Critics  to  shun  was  his  desire, 
Their  infamy  and  their  applause, 
Their  hatred  with  its  gaping  jaws, 
Whose  will  drags  beauty  in  the  mire. 


32  ANTON  IN  SOVA. 

A  zas  jej  v  sal  to  pucli,  zene; 
jak  tresou  se  ty  ruce  svadle!  — 
Zda  pri  torn  nekdo  na  zapadle 
se  jmeno  jeho  rozpomene? 

"  (1890). 


2.  U  REK. 

U  rek  mam  veCer  vlazn^  rad, 
u  fek,  kde  plno  imisli  lezi, 
kde  zvolna  z  reky  vstava  chlad 
a  bila  pena  z  dalky  snezi. 

U  rek  mam  brfzy  nejradej' 
a  olse,  do  nichz  stin  se  dere, 
a  cvrcku  sum  a  vazek  rej 
a  dalce  mesta  rysy  sere. 

Rad  u  fek  rybaie  ja  zrim 

za  clonou  par  s  loclickou  Iinou 

se  plouzit  serem  vecernim, 

kdy  cervanky  v  mze  modre  hynou. 

A  vecer  kdyz  se  nachyli, 
a  mesfc  v  fece  kdy  se  houpa, 
ten  nocnf  chodec  napily 
modravou  parou,  z  vod  jez  stoupa : 

rid  spradam  rhytmus  hudby  pin 
pri  vzpominkach  a  sladke  tuse, 
pri  splounani  ztisenych  vln 
a  pri  vzruseni  cele  duse. 

iniimrfch  ndlad"  (1891). 


ANTON  IN  SOVA.  33 

Constrained  afresh,  he  seeks  the  hall; 
His  shrivelled  fingers,  how  they  quiver!  - 
Perchance  that  someone  will  deliver 
His  name  this  evening  from  its  fall? 

"Realistic  Strophes"  (1890). 


2.  BY  RIVERSIDES. 

I  love  moist  eve  by  riversides, 
That  shells  abundantly  adorn, 
When  coolness  from  them  gently  glides 
And  from  atar  white  foam  is  borne. 

1  cherish  there  the  birches  most 
And  willows,  where  the  shadows  crowd; 
Shrill  crickets,  flies,  —  a  dancing  host 
And  distant  towns  in  fading  shroud. 

Fishermen  there  entrance  my  sight 
In  sluggish  skiff  that  hazes  veil, 
Afloat  "mid  eve's  decaying  light, 
When  in  blue  mists  red  sunsets  fail. 

And  when  the  eventide  has  sunk, 
And  on  the  stream  the  moon  is  reeling, 
That  rover  of  the  night-time,  drunk 
With  bluish  haze  from  waters  stealing, 

My  rhythmic  tunes  I  love  to  lace 
'Mid  memories  and  wistful  thought, 
While  wavelets  plash  with  muffled  grace 
And  all  my  spirit  is  distraught. 

"Blossoms  of  Intimate  Moods"  (1891). 


34  AN  TON  IN  SOVA. 

3.  PROCHAZKOU. 

Z  obory,  listi  kde  ztliva, 
mekce  by  ulehla  Ian, 
rezabu  rada  v  kraj  splyva 
pfes  dlouhou,  mlhavou  plan. 

Pres  dlouhe  mlhave  plane 
u  blizkych  zlutavych  vod, 
na  kazde  aleji  strane 
spadava  rezabu  plod. 

S  rozpiate  zda  se  ze  snury, 
jiz  zdoben  podzimku  hav, 
padaji  korale  shury 
do  svadlych  stvolu  a  trav. 

Nechf  pada  snu  mych  te"z  prival, 

byt  jen  jak  uvadly  list! 

Jake  jsem  jaro  kdys  mfval, 

ze  spadlych  snu  dnes  chci  cist. 

,,Kvety  intimnich  ndlad"  (1891). 


4.  U  STRZE. 

Tu  misto  nejmilejs'i  lehnout  v  travu, 

a  v  strnulosti  plache  primknout  zraky, 

nemyslit  na  nic,  netouzit,  jen  hlavu 

v  podusku  travy  vtisknout  .  .  .  Jako  vraky 

rozlite  oblacky  se  ponofuji 

za  hory  hrbet  ...  A  vse  te  tady  h^cka, 


ANTON  IN  SOYA.  35 

3.  PROMENADE. 

In  the  coppice,  where  leaves  are  decaying, 
The  hind  would  gently  repose; 
On  the  country-side,  ash-trees  are  swaying 
O'er  the  long,  dim  meadow  in  rows. 

O'er  the  meadow  with  long,  dim  hedges, 
Where  the  yellowish  waters  plash, 
There  falls  on  the  avenue's  edges 
The  fruit  of  the  mountain-ash. 

'Tis  as  though  the  autumn  divided 
The  girdle  that  decked  her  with  gems, 
And  earthward  the  corals  glided 
On  the  faded  grasses  and  stems. 

Let  fall,  too,  the  flood  of  my  dreaming, 
Though  'tis  but  as  a  leaf  that  is  dead! 
What  once  as  my  spring  I  was  deeming, 
I  would  cull  now  from  dreams  that  are  shed. 

"Blossoms  of  Intimate  Moods"  (1891). 


4.  ON  THE  HILL-SrDE. 

Here  is  the  sweetest  grass-plot  for  a  bed, 

In  softest  lethargy  to  close  the  eyes, 

On  naught  to  brood,  nor  yearn,  but  let  the  head 

Droop  in  the  grassy  couch . . .  Like  wreckage  flies 

A  huddled  clot  of  clouds,  that  yonder  soar 

Behind  the  mountain's  ridge  . . .  All  lulls  thee  here, 


36  ANTONfN  SOVA. 

bzuk  hmyzu,  travy,  trsu,  jez  se  vzduji, 
let  linych  motylu  .  .  .  Pres  tvoje  vicka 
blesk  jako  z  vod  se  nyni  prehoup'  jasnS. 
Klid  neznamy  to  u  tve  hlavy  stoji. 
Ty  citii,  jak  se  mrtvym  drime  krasne, 
neb  zeme  tez  ma  kolebavku  svoji! 

,,Zmeho  kraje"  (1893). 


5.  ODCIZENI  M1LENCI. 

NaSli  jsme  se  kdys  v  jedine  touze:  milovat  stejne  a  stejne 

klnout, 

az  v  srdce  nase  stejny  Vichr  naval  nekoneCne  snehy .  .  . 
Neslyseli  jsme  zvonu  vanocnich,  ni  zpev  pastevcu 
a  nevime,  ze  se  narodil  Ten,  jenz  by  nas  vykoupil  .  .  . 

Nasli  jsme  se  zas  v  jedine*  touze:  Odumfit  sami  sobe, 
nekonefine  snehy  ve  sve  du§i  a  nekonecn^  noci, 
tisknout  si  ruce,  s  poslednim  polibkem  davno  rozloucenych 
a  nenaslouchat  jiz  dravcum  vasni  v  nas  oddychujicim  ... 

Oddalujeme  se.  Planemi  nasich  Dusi  zasnezenymi 
lesy  hust^  stoji,  nebetycne  jak  mezniky  nepronikle, 
vrany  snu  nizko  se  strou  po  serym  klenutim  vetvi. 

Oddalujeme  se;  nezfime  se  jiz  roky,  jen  tajemnou  hudbu 
vSak  slyiime  dosud.  Jsme  vzdalene"  vykfiky  poutniku 
na  opacnych  stranach,  mizicich  do  dalek  zasnezenych, 

.Jeste  jednou  se  vrdttme"  (1900). 


ANTON  IN  SOVA.  37 

Insects  adrone,  grass,  plant-stems  bending  o'er, 
The  flight  of  sluggish  moths  . . .  To  thee  appear 
Gleams  as  from  waters,  with  a  radiant  leap. 
And  by  thy  head  there  stands  a  calm  unknown. 
Thou  feel'st  'tis  wondrous  with  the  dead  to  sleep, 
For  Earth  has  cradle-ditties  of  her  own! 

"From  My  Country"  (1893). 


5.  THE  LOVERS'  ESTRAGEMENT. 

We  found  us  once  in  a  single  yearning:  to  love  the  same  and 

the  same  to  revile, 
Until  into  our  hearts  the  same  Tempest  had  wafted  unending 

snowdrifts. 

We  heard  not  Yule-tide  chimes,  nor  herdsmen's  ditties, 
Nor  knew  that  He  had  been  born  who  might  redeem  us  ... 

We  found  us  again  in  a  single  yearning:  to  grow  dead  one  to 

another, 

Unending  snowdrifts  in  our  souls  and  unending  night-times, 
To  clasp  hands  with  final  embrace  of  those  long  ago  sundered 
And  never  to  hearken  again  to  brutes  of  passion  that  panted 

within  us. 

We  are  severed.  On  snowbedecked  fields  of  our  Spirits 
Stand  rugged  trees,  heaven-towering,  like  serried  landmarks, 
Ravens  of  dreams  range  low  beneath  grey  vaultage  of  branches. 

We  are  severed :  for  years  beholding  not  one  the  other,  but 

only  perplexing  music 

Reaches  us  yet.  Between  us  are  outcries  of  pilgrims 
On  opposite  sides,  waning  into  snowclad  distances. 

"Once  again  shall  we  return"  (I900J. 


38  AN  TON  IN  SOVA. 


6.  JESTE  JEDNOU  SE  VRATIME  . . . 

Jeste  jednou  se  vratime  zamyileni,  kde  prudce 

kvet  vonel,  ze  svedl  n£s  s  cesty,  kdyz  seriv^m  stfibrem 

tekl 

nad  potoky  vecer,  a  jeste  jednou  se  vratime, 
kde  pisen  jsme  slyseli  z  oken,  jez  hledely  k  zahradam 

zmlklym. 

A  jeste  si  vynajdem  jednu  stezku  a  jeden  haj  v  horach 
tak  cely  podzimem  jasny,  v  tolika  hyficich  barvach, 
po  roztfisten^ch  akkordech  echa  budeme  patrat, 
po  tichem   a  pruznem  kroku,  zda  tajemne  zanechal 

stopy. 

Duse,  do  niz  se  zarizly  vzpominky,  vyleje  v  travu 

tolik  lyriky  kanouci  v  pryskyficnych  krupejich, 

sve  vetve  vysoke,  tmave,  vykoupa  v  podzimnim  slunci, 

svuj  stihly  kmen  protahne  serem  v  mi'jici  mraky;  — 

to  vsecko  v  jedine  chvili,  na  ztezce  sesefene 

a  v  kodinu  zapadu,  ktera  tak  sevfe  nebohe  srdce  .  .  . 

,  Jeste  jednou  se  vrdlfme"  (1900). 


7. 


To  slysel  syn  luchu, 

syn  svStla  a  premital  s  bolesti: 

Pro6  Evropa  vasnive  objfma 

jen  skutecne  zive, 

jen  odv^zne,  silne*  a  sebevedome, 


ANTONIN  SOVA.  39 

•    6.  ONCE  AGAIN  SHALL  WE  RETURN  . . . 

Once  again  shall  we  return  musingly,  where  so  potent 

Was  a  blossom's  fragrance,  that  it  lured  us  from  the  pathway, 

when  in  dusky  silver 

Evening  floated  over  rivers,  and  once  again  shall  we  return 
Where  we  heard  a  song  from  windows,  which  looked  on  to 

muteness  of  gardens. 

And  once  more  shall  we  seek  out  the  one  path  and  the  one 

hill-side  thicket 

So  utterly  radiant  with  autumn,  in  such  a  revel  of  colours, 
And  we  shall  search  after  splintered  strains  of  an  echo, 
After  the  soft  and  buoyant  footstep,  that  perchance  left  secret 

traces. 

The  soul  with  memories  graven  upon  it  will  pour  forth  into 

the  grass 

Such  a  bounty  of  lyrical  balm  in  a  resinous  trickling, 
And  will  steep  its  lofty  and  darksome  branches  in  autumnal 

sunshine, 

Its  slender  stem  will  range  duskward  in  vanishing  clouds, 

All  in  a  single  moment,  upon  the  twilit  pathway 

And  at  the  sunset  hour,  which  so  wrings  the  hapless  heart . . . 

"Once  again  shall  we  return"  (1900). 


7.  THE  SON  OF  MOTION. 

The  son  of  motion,  thus  hearing, 

The  son  of  radiance  pondered  with  sorrow: 

Wherefore  doth  Europe  passionately  embrace 

Only  the  soothly  alive, 

Only  the  venturesome,  strong  and  self-certain 


40  AN  TON  IN  SOVA. 

do  nejzazsich  koutu  nahli'zeji'ci, 

ty,  projizdejici  oceany, 

ty,  krizujici  drahami  zemekouli, 

ty,  vesele  kupcici  s  osadami, 

ty,  ohrozujici  sebe,  zoky  zlata  vylodujici 

tarn  v  zemich,  kde  zbrojifi  zpivaji 

v  hu£eni  vasnivych  dmuchavek, 

kde  nove  ulita  dela  jsou  rozestavena, 

kde  v  pristavech  valecnych  cerne  6ni  lodi?  . 

Oh,  davno  syn  ruchu  byl  svedkem: 

ze  Evropa  objima  vasnive 

jen  ty,  kdoz  skutecne  ziji. 

Ty  vitezne  po  hrozn^ch  bojich, 

ty,  milujici  ovoce  stalet^ch  kultur, 

ty,  ktefi  si  vybojovali  mis  to 

a  treba  i  s  nozem  v  ruce, 

nez  rozhodne  pocaly  sceny 

za  nahle  zdvizenou  oponou  .  .  . 

,,Tn  zpevii  Jnesku  i  zt'tfku"  (1 905}. 


8.  VECNY  NEPOKOJ. 

Velika  slova  mela  vzlet 

a  drobne  srdce  nehu,  vkus  .  .  . 

Mozno  se  k  vysim  rozletet, 

neb  zustat.  Srdce  stkalo:  Zkus!  .  .  . 

A  kdyz  jsem  v  nekonecno  vzlet*, 

tarn  dole  srdce  hrozne  plakalo  .  .  . 

A  k  srdci  kdyz  jsem  sed', 

nine  hnizdo  orli  lakalo  .  .  . 

,,Lyrika  Idsky  a  zivota"  (1907). 


ANTONIN  SOVA.  41 

Peering  into  the  most  sequestered  corners, 

Those,  scouring  the  oceans, 

Those,  cruising  on  tracks  of  the  globe, 

Those,  blithely  trafficking  with  settlements, 

Those,  mustering  courage,  unshipping  wallets  of  gold 

Yonder  in  regions,  where  the  armourers  sing 

Amid  passionate  roaring  of  blow-pipes, 

Where  newly-moulded  cannon  are  upreared, 

Where  in  havens  of  war  dusky  vessels  tower  aloft  P.. . 

O,  long  since  was  the  son  of  motion  witness: 
That  Europe  doth  passionately  embrace 
Only  those,  who  in  sooth  are  alive. 
Those  victorious  after  dreadful  combats, 
Those,  loving  fruits  of  the  centuries'  lore, 
Those,  who  in  contest  have  won  them  a  place, 
Yea,  if  need  be,  with  dagger  in  hand, 
Ere  the  fateful  scenes  are  in  action 
Behind  a  suddenly-lifted  curtain . . . 

"Three  Chants  of  To-day  and  To-morrow"  (1905). 


8.  ETERNAL  UNREST. 

Spirited  words  had  soaring  zest, 
The  puny  heart  was  frail  and  shy . . . 
We  can  soar  to  each  topmost  crest, 
Or  linger  here.  The  heart  sobbed:  Try!... 
And  when  I  made  endless  heights  my  quest 
The  heart  wailed  here  below  despairingly . . . 
And  when  with  the  heart  I  sank  to  rest, 
The  eagle's  eyrie  stirred  me  snaringly. 

"Lyrics  of  love  and  life"  (1907). 


AN  TON  IN  SOVA. 

9.  SKLIZNE  ROZI  A  HROZNO. 

Muj  den  plal  v  jare  cistou  zeleni 
a  mnohe  plache  ieny  znel  tarn  krok 
a  tisic  z  radosti  zrosenych  slok  .  .  . 
Jak  kazde  dmul  se  prvni  touhou  prs, 
vsadily  vsecky  v  sad  muj  ruzi  trs 
a  cekaly,  zda  vzejde  ve  sneni  .  .  . 

A  pfatele  mi  byli  sadari. 

Sta  kru  a  stromu  vsadili  a  rev  .  .  . 

Ted  po  rocich  a  podzimech,  kdy  krev 

a  zlato  tryska  z  Hsti  zluteho, 

kdy  vsecko  zra,  jak  z  bronzu  zkuteho 

kdyz  vsecko  sluncem  pla  a  zazafi 

hie,  pozdni  ruze,  hrozny  dozraji 
mi  z  pratelstvi  a  lasky  pfesladke. 
Je  prave  cas.  A  v  chvili  prekratke 
ja  vezmu  je,  neb  samy  tihou  svou 
do  travy  zrosene  mi  u  nohou 
vonice  rozloucenim,  spadaji  .  .  . 

,,Zne"  (1913). 


AN  TON  IN  SOVA.  43 

9.  HARVESTS  OF  ROSES  AND  GRAPES. 

My  day  lit  up  the  crops  of  stainless  corn 
Where  sounded  many  a  timid  woman's  tread 
And  myriad  gladsome  strophes  dew-bespread . . . 
When  every  breast  with  early  yearning  thrilled, 
A  rose-plot  each  within  my  garden  tilled 
And  waited,  till  in  dreams  it  should  be  born. 

My  friends  tilled  likewise;  full  a  hundred  sprays 
And  trees  and  vines  they  planted.  At  the  end 
Of  years  and  autumn-tides,  when  in  a  blend 
The  yellow  leafage  gushes  blood  and  gold. 
When  ripens  all,  as  from  a  bronzen  mould, 
When  in  the  sunlight  all  is  glow  and  blaze, 

Behold,  the  rose,  the  grape,  late-mellowed.  All 
To  me  in  love  and  friendship  passing  fair. 
Their  hour,  in  sooth.  I  shall  not  tarry,  ere 
I  cull  them  in,  else,  bending  to  my  feet 
'Neath  their  own  weight,  in  grasses  dewy-sweet, 
Fragrant  in  their  departing,  they  will  fall . . . 

"The  Harvests"  (1913). 


44 

OTAKAR  THEER. 

1.  VODA. 

Sladka  a  Istiva 

duse  jak  zen 

ritis  se,  vino, 

krajkovim  pen. 

Stfikej  a  hue, 

srdce  mi  zmuc 

dravou  a  vabnou  svou  pisnf! 

Divoka  v  horach, 

rise  co  dech 

omyvas  mesta 

spinavy  breh. 

Vezmi  si,  vem 

blato  i  slem, 

vsechno,  co  dusi  a  tisni! 

Pokleknu,  pfijmu 

od  tebe  kfest, 

nabudu  sily 

hofe  sve  nest. 

Odejdu  tarn, 

kde  Ize  byt  sam, 

v  kraj,  ktery  duch  muj  si  vysni. 

..Uzkosti  a  nadeje"  (1913). 

2.  REKLO  ME  SRDCE . . . 

Reklo  me"  srdce  vuli  moji: 
Proc  mucis  mne  v  stalem  nepokoji? 
Proc  lames  muj  rust?  Prod  trhai  muj  list? 
Proc  v  korune  nicis  pfsen  hnizd? 


45 

OTAKAR  THEER. 

1.  WATER. 

Sweet  and  enticing 

As  women's  souls, 

Lace-foamed,  O  billow, 

Thy  surging  rolls. 

Bluster  and  dart, 

Tangle  my  heart 

In  swiftness  and  lure  of  thy  singing. 

Fierce  in  the  mountains, 

Soft  as  a  sigh, 

Drab  shores  of  the  city 

Thou  ripplest  by. 

Bear  thou  away 

The  mire  and  the  clay, 

With  burden  and  plague  of  their  clinging. 

I  kneel  and  thou  givest 

Baptism's  dower; 

Grief  now  I  master, 

Strong  with  thy  power. 

Yonder  I  fare 

To  solitude's  lair, 

To  the  land  of  my  phantasy's  bringing. 

"Anguish  and  Hope"   (1913). 

2.  SPAKE  MY  HEART... 

Spake  my  heart  unto  my  will: 

Why  rackest  thou  me,  that  1  ne'er  am  still? 

Why  snappest  my  growth?  And  my  leafage  wrest? 

Why  marrest  the  song  in  each  topmost  nest? 


46  OTAKAR  THEER. 

Chci  sladky  vzduch  jarni  v  zavrati  jmout, 
chci  vetve  svc"  k  letu  rozepnout, 
chci  vonet,  chci  vabit,  chci  sumet,  chci  kvest, 
chci  zlato  slunce,  chci  stribro  hvezd. 

Rekla  ma  vule  srdci  memu: 
Dobfe  se  deje  zhyckane"mu! 
Leta  jsi  tekalo  ze  slasri  v  slast; 
mne  nebyt,  neznas  trpet  ni  vlast. 

Jsme  zrozeni  k  cinum,  ci  zrozeni  k  snum? 
Jsme  voda  a  para,  ci  blesk  a  chlum? 
Ja  pani,  ty  rab  jsi,  ja  ruka,  ty  vec, 
mym  rozkazum  klan  se,  jak  vetru  svit  sv5c. 

,,Vsemu  na  vzdory"  (1916). 


3. 

Bolest,  jako  velky  ptak, 
na  mem  srdci  tezce  sedi. 
Nehybe  se.  Mrtve  hledi 
jeji  zkrvaven^  zrak. 

,,Ptaku,  vstan!  Opusf  mne!  Vzlef ! 
Udusis  mne!  Nemdm  dechu;" 
Ale  jakou,  pro  utechu, 
skfehota  mi  odpoved"? 

,,Sl^tnu  jen,  kde  svetla  zfidla 
v  azuru  se  vpiji  mez. 
Udusim  te,  vez  to,  vez, 

nenarostou-Ii  ti  kh'dla!" 

,,Vsemu  na  vzdory"  (1916). 


OTAKAR  THEER. 

I  desire  to  clutch  dizzily  sweet  breath  of  spring, 
I  desire  unto  summer  my  branches  to  fling, 
1  desire  to  be  fragrant,  to  lure,  rustle,  flower, 
I  desire  a  sun-gold,  a  star-silver  dower, 

Spake  my  will  unto  my  heart: 

It  betides  thee  well,  pampered  thing  that  thou  art ! 

Yearlong  from  bliss  to  bliss  didst  thou  stray; 

But  for  me,  thou  wouldst  know  nor  sorrow,  nor  sway. 

Are  we  born  for  struggle,  or  born  for  dream? 
Are  we  water  and  vapour,  or  hill-top  and  gleam? 
I  am  mistress,  thou'rt  slave,  hand  am  I,  thing  art  thou, 
At  my  bidding,  as  taper  in  tempest,  to  bow. 

"In  spite  of  all"   (1916). 


3.  SONG. 

Sorrow,  like  a  mighty  bird 
Weighs  upon  my  heart,  its  lair, 
And  it  moves  not.  Dead  the  stare 
From  its  eye  that  blood  has  blurred. 

"Bird,  arise!  O,  leave  me!  Fly! 
Thou  art  stifling  me!  I  faint!" 
But,  as  solace  for  my  plaint, 
Croakingly  it  makes  reply: 

"Only  where  the  radiant  springs 
Quaff  their  azure  brink,  I  flee. 
Know  that  I  shall  stifle  thee 
If  thou  canst  not  get  thee  wings." 

"In  spile  of  all"  (1916). 


48 

KAREL  TOMAN. 

1.  SENTIMENTALN1  PIjACI. 

Priteli  melancholiku, 

druhu  me  duse  tulacke, 

pod  kter^m  nebem  shasnou  kdysi 

iivoty  na5e  zebracke? 

Pohadek  nasich  stribro,  sed 
kdy  rozstnkne  se,  v  kterou  zem? 
Kdy  hudby,  jez  jsme  milovali, 
poslednim  vzdychnou  akkordem? 

Oh,  davna  laska  procita 
zas  echy  v  strunach  srdce.  Dost 
Na  zdravi  sobe!  Snum  a  svetu! 
At  rekviem  ma  minulost. 

Ve  zlatem  vine  ztopime 
tyransk^  rozmar  pameti. 
A  zpivat  budem,  zapomenem 
lasku  i  vztek  i  prokleti. 

..Torso  zivota"  (1901). 

2.  SLUNECNI  HOD1NY. 

Dum  v  rozvalinach.  Po  deravych  zdech 

se  rozlez'  zravy  mech 
a  lisejniku  cizopasna  chaska. 

Na  dvofe  buji  kokotice 
a  prales  kopriv.  Studna  otravena 
je  napajedlo  krys. 


49 

KAREL  TOMAN. 

I.  THE  SENTIMENTAL  CAROUSERS. 

Comrade  thou  of  melancholy, 
Thou,  my  vagrant  spirit's  friend, 
Underneath  what  sky  hereafter 
Will  our  lives  of  beggary  end? 

Our  annals,  silvery  and  drab, 
Within  what  land,  when  will  they  wane? 
When  will  the  music  that  we  cherished 
Be  wafted  in  a  last  refrain  ? 

O,  bygone  love  an  echo  rouses 
In  the  heart's  chords  again.  No  more! 
Hail  to  ourselves,  to  earth,  to  dreaming! 
A  requiem  to  the  days  of  yore. 

In  golden  wine  the  tyrant  mood 
Of  memory  we  shall  immerse. 
And  we  shall  sing,  and  shall  forget 
Our  love,  our  fury  and  our  curse. 

"Torso  of  Life"  (1901). 

2.  THE  SUN-DIAL. 

A  house  in  ruins.  On  the  crannied  walls 

Moss  gluttonously  crawls 
And  lichens  in  a  spongy  rabble. 

The  yard  is  rank  with  nettle,  thickets 
And  toad-flax.  In  the  poisoned  water-pit 
Rats  have  a  drinking-lair. 


50  KAREL  TOMAN. 

A  chora  jablon,  bleskem  rozrazena, 
nevi,  zda  kvetla  kdys. 

V  dnech  jasnych  padnou  hvizdajice 
stehlici  v  rumy.  V  zafnych  slunn^ch  dnech 
ozije  oblouk  hodin  v  pruceli, 
a  po  nem  rozmarny^  a  vesety 

stin  casu  tanci 
a  recituje  vazne  nebesum: 

Sine  sole  nihil  sum. 

Neb  vse  je  maska. 

,,5/unecW  hodiny 


3.  UNOR. 

Kdo  ticho  milujes  a  samotu 
a  v  lesich  hlubokych  a  v  mini  snezn^ch  poll 
naslouchas  rytmu  zivota, 
zda  nekdy  neslyiis 
hlas  hlubin? 

Zni  z  dalky  karneval  vrazd,  krve,  umirani. 

Mlceni  zem5  boli. 

Viak  dole 
tep  srdce  chveje  se  a  skryty  pramen  z  temnot 

dere  se  k  svetlu. 

A  pi'sen  mlad^ch  vod 
tve  srdce  opije  a  hlavu  stestim  zmami, 
ze  v  zoufalstvi  snad,  ve  vife  vsak  nejsme  sami. 

,,MeVce"  (1914—18). 


KAREL  TOMAN.  51 

A  sickly  apple-tree,  by  lightning  split, 
Knows  not,  if  it  bloomed  e'er. 

When  days  are  clear,  the  whistling  finches 
Invade  the  rubble.  Beaming,  sunlit  days 
Liven  the  dial's  arc  that  fronts  the  place, 
And  freakishly  and  gaily  on  its  face 

Time's  shadow  dances 
And  to  the  sky  recites  in  words  of  gloom: 

Sine  sole  nihil  sum. 

For  all  is  mask. 

"ThcSun-Diar  (1913). 


3.  FEBRUARY. 

Thou  who  adorest  peace  and  solitude 
And  amid  depth  of  woods,  and  calm  of  snowclad  meadows 
Hearkenest  to  the  beat  of  life, 
Dost  thou  not  ever  hear 
Voice  of  the  depths  P 

Far  carnivals  of  slaughter,  blood  and  death  are  heard. 

Earth's  muteness  is  of  woe. 

But  below 
The  heart-beat  stirs,  and  from  the  gloom  a  hidden  well 

Thrusts  itself  lightwards. 

And  tunes  young  waters  chant 

Quicken  thy  heart,  and  daze  thy  thoughts  with  joy  that  we 
Though  in  despair,  yet  not  alone  in  hope  can  be. 

"The  Months"  (1914—18). 


52  KAREL  TOMAN. 

4.  DUBEN. 

Vesele"  jarni  prehanky 
a  prvni  bozi  duha  nad  krajinou! 
Rozsivku  slozil  hospodar 

a  duverive 
obchazi  pudu,  do  niz  sil. 

Snad  pfijdou  mrazy.  Ale  setba  svati 

se  neporiili. 

Neb  z^kon  jedin^  jest  klifiiti  a  rust, 
rust  za  boufi  a  nepohody 

vsemu  navzdory. 

Rozsafni  dedove  se  hfeji  u  kamen 
a  pfemilaji  starou  moudrost,  star^  zvyky 
a  stare  pranostyky. 

"  (1914-18). 


KAREL  TOMAN.  53 


4.  APRIL. 

A  joyous  springtide  shower  of  rain 
And  God's  first  rainbow  o'er  the  countryside! 
The  sower  lays  the  seed-cloth  down 

And  trustfully 
Paces  the  soil  where  he  has  sown. 

Though  frosts  may  come,  yet  shall  the  sacred  tilth 

Be  never  marred. 

For  its  one  statute  is  to  burgeon  and  to  thrive, 
To  thrive  though  storm  and  sleet  befall, 

Defying  all. 

The  worthy  grandsires  warm  them  by  the  chimney-side 
And  ancient  wisdom,  ancient  ways  they  ponder  o'er 
And  ancient  weather-lore. 

"The  Months"  (1915—18). 


54 

JAROSLAV  VRCHLICKY. 

1.  T1CHA  LASKA. 

Nikdy  slovem  nevyzradim, 
co  spi  v  srdci  prehluboko, 
dost  na  torn,  kdyz  v  chvili  stesti 
mluvi  tvar  a  mluvi  oko. 

S  div^m  jekem  prazdn£  skeble 
vlna  hazi  na  pobrezi, 
ale  v  srdci  jako  v  mori 
prave"  perly  na  dne  lezi. 

,,Sny  o  stesti"  (1876). 

2.  ADAGIO. 

Do  velke",  sede  skeble  mramoru, 

kde  misto  vody  svadle  listi  lezi, 

se  kloni  vetve  bh'z  a  javoru. 

Vie  v  drimote,  jen  mraky  nebem  bezi. 

Zde  chtSl  bych  stati  v  zamysleni  dumne"m 

a  divat  se,  jak  vecer  tahne  sem, 

a  lunak  v  letu  posupnem  a  sumnem 

jak  po  kofisti  slidi  nad  lesem; 

tou  sochou  chtel  bych  byti  kamennou, 

jez  o  samote  duma  v  lesni  hloubi, 

jez  s  vetry  mluvi  jen  a  ozvenou, 

na  jejiz  skrani  s  noci  den  se  snoubi. 

,,Rok,  najihu"  (1878). 


55 

JAROSLAV  VRCHLICKY. 

1.  SILENT  LOVE. 

Ne'er  by  a  word  do  I  surrender 
What  'mid  the  heart  in  slumber  lies: 
Sufficient  in  the  hour  of  rapture 
Is  speech  of  countenance  and  eyes. 

The  empty  shells  with  savage  tumult 
Upon  the  shore  the  billow  hurls; 
But  in  the  heart  as  in  the  ocean 
Rest  in  the  depths  the  stainless  pearls. 

"Dreams  of  Happiness"  ( 1 876). 

2.  ADAGIO. 

Over  the  marble  with  its  great  drab  shell, 

Where  faded  leaves  in  place  of  water  lie, 

The  boughs  of  birches  and  of  maples  fell: 

All  slumbers,  save  the  scudding  clouds  on  high. 

Fain  would  I  linger  here  in  wistful  poring, 

And  gaze  at  evening  drawing  nigh  this  way; 

And  at  the  hawk's  gloom-covered,  clamorous  soaring, 

How  o'er  the  wood  he  watches  for  his  prey; 

Fain  would  I  be  this  statue  wrought  in  stone, 

On  loneliness  in  forest-depths  to  brood, 

Speaking  with  winds  and  echo  all  alone, 

Upon  whose  brow  the  night  by  day  is  wooed. 

"A  year  in  the  south"  (1878). 


56  JAROSLAV  VRCHLICKY. 


3.  KRAJINA. 

Na  prazdnych  polich  dlouhe  fady  stromu 
se  kloni  s  bezlistymi  haluzemi, 
vran  zastup  tmi  se  nad  strechami  domu 
a  s  jejich  kridel  sero  pada  k  zemi. 

Kraj  obzoru  se  nahle  rude  vznitil  — 
pla  oranzem,  jenz  pomalu  se  ztraci. 
Snad  zlaty  hav  to  andela,  jenz  chytil 
den  v  name  svou  a  k  nebi  s  nim  se  vraci. 

,,Rok  na  jihu"  (1878). 


4.  EKLOGA  IV. 

Vidis,  kterak  nad  horami  jitro  svita 

a  pod  mezi  slysis  tlouci  penici? 

Pojd,  mam  v  srdci  vsecky  pisne  Theokrita, 

duch  muj  luh  jest  v  barvach  duhy  zarici. 

Co  mi  to  zvoni  u  hlavy? 
Jakoby  nekdo  pohodil  cymbal  do  travy. 

Pojd,  my  pujdem  na  pokraji  lesa  v  stinu, 
svet  se  bude  ve  tvych  ofiich  zhlizeti, 
pojd  se  divat,  jak  vzduch  zlaty  roven  vinu, 
a  co  perel  dala  rosa  poupeti. 

Jestli  mu,  draha,  zavidis, 
vie  ti  jich  kaprad  nahazi  v  kader,  nezli  zvil. 

Ci  chceS  hloub?  Chces  nahlednouti,  kterak  v  mechu, 

v^listi  rdi  se  a  jak  zraje  jahoda? 

Ci  se  bojis,  ze  by  pfi  torn  mohla  v  spechu 

rty  m^  k  tvojim  pribliziti  nahoda? 

Tv^ir  tvoje  nachem  plamena? 
Jahodu  nech  si,  tvuj  ret  je  sladsi  vymena! 


JAROSLAV  VRCHL1CKY.  57 

3.  LANDSCAPE. 

On  the  bare  fields  the  trees  in  straggling  rows 
Earthward  their  leafless  branches  have  outspread: 
The  roofs  are  darkened  by  a  flock  of  crows, 
Dusk  from  their  wings  upon  the  world  is  shed. 

The  sky-line's  fringe  in  sudden  redness  blazed,  — 
It  gleams  with  orange  hues  that  slowly  die: 
Haply,  an  angel's  golden  robe;  he  raised 
Day  in  his  arms,  and  bore  it  back  on  high. 

"A  year  in  the  south"  (1878). 

4.  ECLOGUE  IV. 

See'st  thou  how  o'er  the  mountains  morning  is  ablaze: 
Hear'st  thou  beneath  the  hedge-row  how  the  grass-midge  sings? 
O  come  to  me:  Theocritus  has  tilled  my  heart  with  lays, 
My  soul  is  as  a  mead  in  rainbow  colourings. 
What  is  it  nigh  my  head  doth  sound? 
As  though  were  flung  a  cymbal  on  the  grassy  ground. 

Come,  to  the  forest's  marge  amid  the  shade  we  fare, 
The  world  shall  see  its  image  mirrored  in  thine  eyes, 
O  come  and  feast  thy  gaze  upon  the  wine-gold  air, 
And  on  the  dew  that  clad  the  buds  in  pearly  guise. 

If,  love,  thou  enviest  the  dower, 
More  than  thou  know'st,  the  fern  upon  thy  locks  will  shower. 

Or  wouldst  thou  vale-wards  go,  and  see  the  tints  of  red, 
Decking  the  moss  and  leaves,  and  every  ripening  haw? 
Or  art  thou  timid  lest,  ere  thither  we  have  sped, 
Chance  haply  will  avail,  my  tips  to  thine  to  draw? 

Doth  crimson  on  thy  cheeks  appear? 
A  truce  to  berries,  for  thy  lips  are  sweeter  cheer! 


58  JAROSLAV  VRCHUCKY. 

Ci  snad  mame  jfti  spolu  na  jezero, 
jez  pokryVa  vodnich  ruzi  tmavy^  list? 
nad  vodou  kde  hraje  olsin  a  vrb  sero 
a  kde  vazka  ztapi  kfidel  amethyst 
v  krystalny  palac  pohadek? 
Vzdyf  jsi  tarn  doma,  vzdyf  ty  jsi  sestrou  Najadek ! 

Ci  mas  radej  pole  zitna,  rozvlnena, 
ktera  zneji  much  a  cvrcku  ohlasem? 
Po  mezi  jdes  v  trave  rada  zamyslena 
prsty  sy^mi  pouStejic  klas  za  klasemP 

Ci  snad  chces  hledat  v  jeteli 
ty  chvile  stestf,  jez  se  v  tvych  o£ich  zaskvely? 

Pojd,  juz  slunce  prvni  zare  padla  v  kraje, 
jeho  paprsk  je  v  tve  srdce  zlata  nit, 
sver  mu  krok  svuj,  povede  te  v  lasky  raje, 
kde  ti  mladost  nektar  stesti  poda  pit. 

Co  mi  to  zvoni  u  hlavy? 
Jakoby  nekdo  pohodil  cymbal  do  travy. 

..Eklogy  a  pi'sne"  (1880). 


5.  LESNI  MOTIV. 

Jak  divno,  mity  Boze,  je  mi, 
jak  ptaci  hnizdo  zved*  bych  pod  vetvemi 
kdes  v  hvozde  ztmelem  u  skal  stinnych  srazu; 
a  jak  to  hnizdo  pine  sladkych  pfsni 

sam  serem  stromu 

nes  bych  si  domu! 

Jak  nesu  Stesti  sve  a  strach  mne  tisni. 
Rci,  ditS,  donesu  je  bez  urazu? 

..Eklogy  a  pune*'  (1880),      " 


JAROSLAV  VRCHLICKY.  59 

Or  shall  we  haply  go  together  to  the  lake, 
That  'neath  the  dusky  leaves  of  water-flowers  is  hid  ? 
Alder  and  willow-shades  above  the  water  shake, 
]The  dragon-fly  dips  wings  of  amethyst  amid 

A  fabled  castle's  crystal  dome. 
Thou  too,  the  Naiads'  sister,  findest  there  thy  home! 

Or  lov'st  thou  more  the  corn-field  with  its  billowy  grain, 
Where  echoing  melodies  of  flies  and  crickets  dart. 
Thou  rovest  with  thy  musings  o'er  the  grassy  plain, 
Plucking  with  joyous  fingers  ear  on  ear  apart. 

Or  wouldst  thou  in  the  clover-field, 
Seek  hours  of  joy,  whose  light  is  in  thine  eyes  revealed? 

Come,  for  the  sun's  first  splendour  on  the  country  falls, 
His  sheen  is  in  thy  heart,  like  to  a  thread  of  gold, 
Entrust  to  him  thy  steps,  and  gain  love's  heavenly  halls, 
Where  youth  doth  to  thy  lips  its  draught  of  nectar  hold. 

What  is  it  nigh  my  head  doth  sound? 
As  though  were  flung  a  cymbal  on  the  grassy  ground. 

"Eclogues  and  Songs"   (1880). 


5.  FOREST  PHANTASY. 

Dear  God,  such  strangeness  comes  o'er  me, 
As  if  'neath  boughs  a  bird's- nest  I  might  see, 
In  the  dark  wood  where  shady  rocks  are  piled; 
And  I  this  nest,  with  dulcet  songs  bespread 

'Mid  tree-dimmed  air 

Should  homewards  bear. 
Thus  bear  I  happiness,  but  feel  this  dread,  — 
Will  it  abide  unharmed,  O  tell  me,  child! 

"Eclogues  and  Songs' '  ( 1 880). 


60  JAROSLAV  VRCHLICKY. 

6.  JAK  DRAHOKAM. 

Vef,  pel  na  kridle  motyla, 

lesk  na  visni 
se,  duse  spanila 

tak  nepysni, 
jak  svetu  ja,  ze  sam 

te  mam 
a  v  srdci  tebe  nosim 

jak  drahokam! 

Sto  polibkii  ti  posila 

ma  duse  v  snach, 
tys  do  ni  rozlila 

zaf,  vuni,  nach. 
Ted"  v§ecko  v  svete  mam 

ze  sam 
ve  sve"m  srdci  tebe  nosim 

jak  drahokam! 

,,Eklogy  a  pwnc"  (1880). 


7.  NAPIS  NA  STARY  POHAR. 

Ve  stribro  zasazeny  rubin 
pla  trojim  vencem  do  kola, 

di:  Hied  pijaku,  co  z  mych  hlubin 
do  tveho  nitra  plapola! 

A  v  zlato  vryt^  s  graciemi 
se  vznaii  Apoll  na  voze, 
di:  Pozitkem  bud  veren  zemi, 
led  myslenkou  spej  k  obloze! 


JAROSLAV  VRCHLICKY.  61 

6.  AS  PRECIOUS  STONE . . . 

In  sooth,  the  dust  on  insects'  wings, 

A  shimmering  tree, 
O  beauteous  soul,  ne'er  brings 

Such  ecstasy 
As  mine,  that  thee  alone 

I  own 
And  in  my  heart  I  bear 

As  precious  stone. 

A  hundred  kisses  sends  to  thee 

My  soul  in  dreams. 
Thou  hast  therein  shed  radiancy, 

Scent,  purple  gleams, 
Now  all  that  in  the  world  I  own 

Is  thee  alone, 
Whom  in  my  heart  I  bear 

As  precious  stone. 

"Eclogues  and  Songs"  (1880). 


4.  INSCRIPTION  FOR  AN  OLD  GOBLET. 

A  ruby  'mid  the  silver  gleaming 

In  three-fold  garland  twined  around, 

Saith:  "Reveller,  see,  what  from  me  streaming 

Its  glowing  path  to  thee  hath  found!" 

With  graces  graved  in  golden  splendour 
Apollo  on  his  car  doth  rise, 
Saying:  "In  joy  to  earth  surrender, 
But  speed  in  spirit  to  the  skies  1" 


62  JAROSLAV  YRCHLICKY. 

A  ve  podstavci  smaragd  sviti 
ve  listi  reVy  podobe, 
di :  Reva  tobe  verna  v  ziti 
chce  rusti  te"z  tvem  na  hrobe. 

,,Dojmy  a  Rozmary"  (1880). 


8.  CESTA  ORESIM. 

Tak  uzka  byla,  ze  dva  motyli 
jen  tesne  letet  mohli  vedle  sebe, 
ze  paprsky  jen  po  ni  tancily, 
hlemyzcl,  jda  pfes  ni,  pfepazil  ji  celou. 
Sem  tarn  se  kmital  moclry  kousek  nebe; 
my  spolu  sli  tou  jeji  klenbou  ztmelou, 
a  zazrak:  ac  to  prece  pravda  jista, 
vzdy  oba  na  ni  dost  jsme  meli  mista. 

,,PouU  k  ElJoradu"  (1882). 


9.  TERCfNY. 

Tak  nejprv  nestaci  nam  vesmir  cel^ 
a  potom  vSecky  tuzby  nale  zkoji 
v  alkovny  stinu  jeden  koutek  stmely. 

Nam  zarne  slunce  nad  hlavami  stoji, 
vsak  patfit  v  ne  se  bojime,  jak  ptaci, 
jenz  sfastne  minuli  bour  v  huste  chvoji, 

a  kter^m  blahem  v  hrdle  zpev  se  ztr^ici. 

,,Pout{  k  Eldoradu"  (1882). 


JAROSLAV  VRCHLICKY.  63 

An  emerald,  like  a  vine-leaf  weaving 
Upon  the  pedestal  its  glow, 
Saith:  "To  thy  life  the  vine  is  cleaving, 
And  fain  upon  thy  grave  would  grow!" 

"Impressions  and  Moods"  (1880). 


8.  THE  HAZEL  PATH. 

It  was  so  narrow,  that  two  butterflies 

Upon  it,  side  by  side,  could  scarcely  flit. 

And  sunbeams  darted  there  in  stealthy  wise: 

The  snail  that  crawled  there  filled  its  whole  extent. 

A  morsel  of  blue  sky  shone  over  it 

We  'neath  its  darkened  vault  together  went. 

And  wonderful!  Yet  sooth  it  is  to  say, 

We  two  found  room  enough  upon  the  way. 

"On  the  Pilgrimage  to  Eldorado"   (1882). 


9.  STANZAS. 

First  the  whole  universe  avails  us  not 

But  then  our  every  yearning  pang  declines 

In  a  cool  alcove's  single  shadowy  spot. 

Above  our  heads  the  sun  in  radiance  shines, 
Yet  we  fear  seeing  it,  as  birds  that  fled 
Safe  from  the  tempest  to  a  clump  of  pines 

And  in  their  gladness  no  more  songs  have  shed. 

"On  the  Journey  to  Eldorado"   (1 882). 


64  JAROSLAV  VRCHLICK*. 

10.  NOCNI  ZPEV  MERL1NA. 

Ty  bled^  srpe  luny, 

nad  mlcenlivou  strani 

jenz  vychazis  a  nad  obrubou  lesa 

se  zvolna  chvejes  jako  usmev  lasky, 

bud  pozdraven!  Dnes  mracny 

tva  vlidna  tvai  mi  kyne,  dvojnSsobne 

mi  vitana ;  neb  jejich  tmavou  clonou 

ty  mihas  se,  jak  za  oponou  hustou 

pred  oltafem  svit  lampy, 

Pfed  tvari  Boha  veky 

ty  ubi'ras  se  klidny 

jak  cherub,  jenz  me  verne  kona  sluzby; 

pred  tvafi  zeme  veky 

ty  ubiras  se  tichy^ 

jak  strainy  duch,  jenz  na  ceste  ji  hlida; 

pred  tvaf  lidi  veky 

ty  ubiras  se  smavy^ 

jak  pritel,  ktery^  vsecko  v  souzvuk  zladi. 

Ty  svitis  na  tvar  Sfastn^ch, 

jiz  nejlip  viini  ruzi  pochopuji, 

jiz  pujcuji  s\6  srdce, 

by  v  slavikove  zajasalo  pisni, 

jiz  spojuji  sva  usta 

na  vonn^,  sladk^  kalich, 

v  nemz  laska  drima  vyhostena  z  raje. 

Ty  svitis  v  chudou  jizbu 

a  stribris  jeji  steny, 

ze  chudemu  o  stesti  ve  snu  zda  se. 

Ba  tys  i  pritel  mrtv^ch, 

kdyz  zahalene  v  rubas 

juz  opustil  je  kazdy, 

ty  okenkem  se  vkradas 


JAROSLAV  VRCHLICKY.  65 

10.  MERLIN'S  NIGHT  SONG. 

Pale  sickle  of  the  moon 

Above  the  silent  slope, 

Advancing,  and  above  the  forest's  border 

Gently  aquiver  like  a  smile  of  love, 

All  hail!  Today  in  clouds 

Thy  sweet  face  beckoned  me  in  two- fold  guise: 

Welcome  to  me;  for  in  their  gloomy  veil 

Thou  gleamest,  as  behind  a  massive  curtain 

Lamplight  before  an  altar. 

Before  God's  face  through  ages 

Thou  dost  betake  thee  calmly. 

Like  to  a  cherub,  doing  faithful  service. 

Before  earth's  face  through  ages 

Thou  dost  betake  thee  softly 

Like  to  a  guardian  spirit  on  its  pathway: 

Before  men's  face  through  ages 

Thou  dost  betake  thee  smiling 

Like  to  a  friend  who  merges  all  in  concord. 

Thou  gleam'st  on  glad  men's  faces, 

-  Straightway  the  scent  of  roses  best  they  seize, 
Straightway  their  hearts  they  yield 
To  the  blithe  singing  of  the  nightingale: 
And  they  join  lips  to  make 
A  fragrant,  luscious  chalice, 
Wherein  sleeps  love,  outlawed  from  paradise: 
Thou  gleam'st  in  some  poor  room, 
Bedeck'st  its  walls  with  silver, 
That  in  his  sleep  the  poor  man  thinks  on  gladness. 
Yea,  for  the  dead  thou  carest, 
When,  swathed  amid  their  shroud, 
They  are  by  all  deserted, 
Thou  through  the  casement  stealest, 


66  JAROSLAV  VRCHLICKV. 

a  v  ztuhle  tvari  jejich  tvuj  lesk  vlfdn^ 

se  zachviva  jak  slza, 

jez  vSecky  spory  v  mirny^  zladi  souzvuk. 

Kol  vsecko  spi,  stran  cerna 

jak  medveda  srst  do  prazdna  se  jezi, 

jen  sem  tarn  v  listi,  housti 

mesicne  bile  pruhy  zapadaji, 

jak  do  medvedi  srsti 

by  borily  se  lovce  bile  prsty. 

Ten  lovec  Buh  jest,  silnou  za  sanici 

chyt'  potvoru,  tmu  no6ni,  z  ktere"  hruza 

a  postrach  srsely,  pak  vzal  sve  kopi, 

mesice  zlaty  paprsk, 

a  v  chrtan  jej  vrazil  lite  sani,  kolem 

az  Cervankem  se  rozlila  krev  jejf, 

sta  jeho  psu,  v^chodnich  vetru  svSzich, 

ted  lize  ji  a  zeme  usmiva  se 

a  vstfic  se  chveje  jitru! 

Snad,  bdici  Ivor,  ja  pouze 

mracneho  nebe  teskne  hlidam  dumy. 

Na  skalnou  moji  sluji 

svit  luny  zaklepal  a  ja  se  vzbudil, 

zem  pozdravit,  ji  vlidne  rici  slovo, 

by  bezdnem  dlouba  pouf  ji  neznavila, 

ji  ujistit,  ze  za  ni 

se  vznasi  andel  s  roztaienym  kridlem, 

by  zadrzel  ji  v  padu, 

ba  ze  slim  buh  by  zachytil  ji  y  naruc, 

jak  poranenou  bilou  holubici 

a  v  leimu  svoji  rizy 

ku  touznemu  ji  ustlal  odpocinku. 

Mne  casto  zda  se,  casern 

ze  slyiim,  kterak  nebes  tezke  dv^fe 

se  otviraji  a  zas  zapadaji, 


JAROSLAV  VRCHL1CKY.  67 

And  on  their  rigid  (ace  thy  peaceful  gleam 

Quivers  like  to  a  tear, 

That  merges  every  brawl  in  mighty  concord. 

All  sleeps:  the  hill-side's  blackness 

Like  a  bear's  tur  is  bristling  in  the  void. 

Upon  the  leaves  and  thickets 

The  moon's  white  streaks  are  scattered  here  and  there, 

As  at  a  bear's  rough  fur 

Were  clutching  the  white  fingers  of  a  hunter. 

God  is  this  hunter:  by  its  mighty  jaw-bone 

He  seized  the  monster  night-gloom,  whence  dismay 

And  dread  were  scattered;  then  he  took  his  spear, 

The  moonray  golden-clad, 

And  thrust  it  in  the  beast's  grim  fangs,  till,  when 

His  blood  gushed  forth  as  redness  of  the  dawn, 

His  hundred  hounds,  the  freshening  eastern  winds, 

Lap  at  it  there;  and  earth  begins  to  smile, 

Aquiver  for  the  morning. 

Haply  sole  waking  creature, 

I  probe  sad  musings  of  the  cloudy  heaven. 

Upon  my  rocky  cavern 

The  moon-light  tapped,  and  I  was  roused  from  slumber 

To  greet  the  earth  and  speak  soft  words  to  her, 

That  her  long  boundless  journey  may  not  tire  her, 

To  let  her  know,  that  o'er  her 

Is  borne  an  angel  with  a  spreading  wing 

To  hold  her  in  her  fall, 

Yea,  e'en  that  God  himself  would  clasp  her  round, 

Like  to  a  white  and  sorely  smitten  dove, 

And  in  his  garment's  border 

Would  lay  her  to  the  rest  for  which  she  yearns. 

Often  meseems  that  I 

At  times  can  hear  the  heavy  gates  of  heaven 

Opening  wide  and  closing  once  again, 


68  JA  R  OSLA  V  VR  CHLICKY. 

pak  ticho  zas  a  pak  zas  sumot  kridel, 

a  citim  v  srdci, 

ze  cely  vesmir  v  dlani  Boha  dfim£ 

a  spokojen  jdu  spat; 

vzdyf  v  ni  je  viady,  vsady  jest  muj  domov. 

Na  trave  skvi  se  rosa, 

dech  zeme  vidim,  v  bile"  pare  stoupa 

jak  tucha  jitra  k  nebi, 

kmen  bfizy  bity  i  hnedy  suk  dubu 

si  rozumejf  v  tomto  poloseru, 

a  tajne"  pribuzenstvi 

i  kfemen  citi  s  vlnou,  jez  ho  hloda, 

sta  snu  kol  proplita  se 

a  na  me  svadle  skrani 

mi  tepou  kridly, 

jak  hnede  velke  mury  noCni 

na  vraskovitem  kmenu 

djuteho  jilmu,  z  nehoz  vyletely. 

O  noci,  rozhod  po  nich 

sif  stinu  svych,  af  brzy 

nad  stromu  vrcholky,  nad  hfbety  horstva, 

jak  v  lehke  zbroji  Roland  vitezici, 

se  zvedne  jitro ! 

Slys  penice  hlas  v  mlazi ! 

O  jasam  blahem,  kdosi  citi  se  mnou. 

Snad  prave  krmi  mlade, 

jak  dusi  svou  ja  krmim  myslenkami. 

O  pej,  6  pej,  vzdyf  promSnen^  v  tony, 

me  sny  a  tuchy  spile  dojdou  k  nebi, 

spiS  svetu  zachovany 

mu  po  stoletich  vyndi  muj  odkaz, 

jenz  myslenkou  nes'  zemi  pozehnani 

a  pozdrav  lidstvu! 

Eldoradu"  (1882). 


JAROSLAV  VRCHLICKY.  69 

Then  peace  again,  then  rustling  wings  again, 

And  in  my  heart  I  feel 

That  all  creation  slumbers  in  God's  hand, 

And  I,  content,  seek  slumber; 

For  everywhere  my  home  is,  everywhere. 

Dew  glimmers  on  the  grass, 

I  see  earth's  breath  in  whitish  haze  uprising 

Skywards,  as  morn's  foreboding: 

The  birch-trunk's  whiteness  and  the  brown  gnarled  oak 

Hold  converse  in  the  half-light  of  the  dawn, 

And  e'en  the  pebble  feels 

Mystical  kinship  with  the  wave  that  chafes  it. 

A  hundred  dreams  are  scattered 

And  on  my  faded  brow 

Pinions  are  beating, 

Like  great  brown  night-moths, 

Upon  the  wrinkled  trunk 

That  girds  some  hollow  elm,  whence  they  have  flown. 

O  night,  fling  after  them 

Thy  shadow-net,  that  swiftly 

Over  the  tree-tops,  over  mountain-ridges, 

E'en  as  the  conquering  Roland  in  light  armour 

Morning  may  rise! 

Hear  in  the  brake  the  warbler! 

O,  I  exult,  for  someone  shares  my  gladness: 

Haply  she  feeds  her  young, 

E'en  as  I  feed  my  soul  with  ponderings. 

O  sing,  O  sing:  my  dreams  and  yearnings  changed 

To  music  will  the  easier  reach  heaven, 

The  easier  haunt  earth. 

And  after  centuries  perform  my  will  there, 

Bearing  in  thought  a  blessing  to  the  world, 

And  gieeting  to  mankind. 

"On  the  Journey  to  Eldorado"  (1882). 


70  JARO SLA  V  VR CHLI CK Y. 

11.  QUIS  UT  DEUS? 

Ve  stare*m  chrame,  okny  gotickymi 
kam  posledni  se  kradly  slunce  blesky, 
ve  prachu  sloupech  kadidla  jak  dymy 
jez  vznasely  se,  opr^skand  fresky 
jsem  prohlizel  a  zachvela  mnou  bazen. 
O  zjeveni!  V  plamenu  desnou  ISzen 
se  kacel  dav  sta  hlav  a  berly,  mitra 
a  kfize,  koruny  a  mece,  zezla, 
a  velky  Andel  jako  usmev  jitra 
stal  nad  tou  smesi,  jez  se  v  pozar  svezla, 
tvaf  jeho  byla  slunce  na  blankytu 
a  ,,Quis  ut  Deus"  nesl  na  svem  stitu 
napsano  blesky,  vitezn^  byl,  desny. 
V  torn  se  strany,  kde  mhy  a  koufe  besny 
se  valil  vfr,  Smrt  pfiskocila  k  nemu 
a  ze  zadu,  by  nevidel  to,  chvatem 
za  slovem  Deus  ,,Ego"  psala  hnatem 
a  chechtala  se  pri  torn  vtipu  svemu. 

,,Sfinx"  (1883). 


12.  PASTEL.  GULIU  ZEYEROVI). 

Rad  ulice  mam,  misto  dlouhe  rady 
pochmurn^ch  domfl,  v  nichz  se  tahnou  sady, 
zdi  kryte  bfecfanem,  kam  oko  staci. 
Jak  ticho  tarn,  jen  zndka  kdosi  kraci, 
krok  jeho  dute  zni;  mam  rad  je  z  jara, 
kdy  zda  se,  mladim  zed  ze  jihne  stara, 
kdy  prvni  listky  kmitou  ti'sni  stromku, 
kdy  sykorka  se  ozve  ve  sve"m  domku, 
na  bile  bnze,  kdy  i  hlina  voni, 
a  stare  topoly  jak  v  dume  kloni 
se  k  oknum  palacu  a  jaro  tusf. 


JAROSLAV  VRCHLICKY.  71 

11.  QUIS  UT  DEUS? 

In  the  old  church,  thro'  Gothic  windows  drifting, 

Stealthily  crept  the  sun's  departing  rays; 

Incense  its  misty  pillars  was  uplifting 

In  drifts  of  vapour;  as  I  turned  my  gaze 

On  crumbling  frescoes,  fear  upon  me  came; 

What  visions!  In  a  dreadful  bath  of  flame 

A  hundred  heads,  and  mitres,  rods  were  borne, 

With  crosses,  crowns,  and  swords  and  maces  pent. 

A  mighty  Angel,  like  the  smile  of  morn, 

Stood  o'er  the  throng,  that  with  the  fire  was  blent. 

His  countenance,  the  sun  in  heaven's  field. 

And  "quis  ut  deus"  he  upon  his  shield 

In  flashes  bore:  dire,  conquering  was  he. 

Then  from  the  side,  where  surged  on  frenziedly 

Eddies  of  mist  and  smoke,  Death  to  him  pressed, 

And  from  behind,  to  be  unseen,  in  haste 

To  the  word  "deus"  with  a  bone  he  traced 

"Ego",  and  fell  to  tittering  at  his  jest. 

"Sphinx"  (1883), 


12.  PASTEL  (TO  JULIUS  ZEYER). 

I  love  the  roads  that  have  not  at  their  edges 

Dark  houses,  but  are  fringed  with  garden-hedges. 

Walls  ivy-clad  on  all  sides  greet  the  eye: 

So  peaceful  'tis,  and  rare  the  passer-by, 

His  tread  rings  hollow;  spring-tide  best  of  all,  - 

Meseems,  youth  pulses  in  the  ageing  wall: 

When  in  the  throng  of  trees  the  leaves  first  glitter, 

When  in  his  home  the  titmouse  starts  to  twitter, 

On  the  white  birches,  'mid  the  clod-born  scent, 

And  ancient  poplars  pondering  are  bent 

To  palace-casements,  with  spring's  advent  filled; 


72  JAROSLAV  VRCHLICKY. 

Sam  chodivam  tu  a  v  me  snici  du§i 

jest  jaro  tez.  Dnes,  poledne  se  smalo, 

se  stiny  vetvi  slunce  po  zdich  hralo, 

jdu  tudy  —  kroku  hlas,  ma  skran  se  zveda; 

mne  jeptiska  vstnc  kraci,  sestra  seda; 

dva  hyacinty  kvetouci  se  nese, 

kvet  plapolavy  na  jednom  se  tfese 

a  druhy^  jako  mesiSni  svit  bil^; 

a  posud  zrim,  jak  jeptisky  tvar  chyli 

se  nad  kvet,  jak  plase  zrak  se  kloni. 

A  fialky  ze  star^ch  zahrad  voni. 

,,G>  zivot  dal"  (1883). 


13.  J1TRO. 

Svou  sjavu  rozvlnilo  letni  jitro, 

na  klasu  nadheru  a  v  smaragd  luk, 

co  peril  raelo,  vsypalo  v  hnizd  nitro, 
co  tonu,  vtkalo  v  ptaci'ch  pisni  zvuk. 

Strom  kazdy  pohnul  hlavou  tezkou  plody, 
byl  jeden  usmev  azur  nesmern^, 

a  velk^  sidlo  z^efilo  klin  vody, 

a  v  kvetech  motyl  mih'  se  nadherny. 

Kraj  odhrnoval  clonu  bile  pary 
jak  z  lazne  divka  stoupajici  vlas, 

oblouky  v  zlate  stopene  most  stary 
se  nad  rucejem  jako  duha  tfas'. 

v 

Sel  seka£  polem  na  rameni  s  kosou, 
sel  pasak  zpfvaje  si  za  stadem, 

sla  divka  s  loktusi  a  nohou  bosou, 
jen  perly  stfrala,  kde  slapla  v  zem. 


JAROSLAV  VRCHLICKY.  73 

Alone  I  rove,  my  dreaming  soul  is  thrilled 

With  spring.  Today  a  smiling  noon-tide  beamed. 

Upon  bough-shaded  walls  the  sunshine  streamed: 

I  wander,  —  steps  resound.  1  lift  my  gaze; 

A  nun,  grey  sister,  on  my  pathway  strays: 

Two  blossoming  hyacinths  she  bears  with  her, 

On  one  a  blazing  blossom  is  astir: 

The  second  doth  a  moon-white  lustre  shed: 

And  still  I  gaze,  how  the  nun  droops  her  head 

Upon  the  flower;  her  timid  eyes  are  bent. 

Violets  from  old-time  gardens  scatter  scent. 

"Whal  life  gave"  (1883). 


13.  MORNING. 

The  summer  morn  its  glory  lavished  o'er 
The  cornfields'  pomp,  the  emerald  of  plains, 
It  let  its  pearls  amid  the  nests  outpour, 
Its  notes  it  wove  amid  the  birds'  refrains. 

Each  tree  has  stirred  its  fruit-o'erladen  crest, 
One  boundless  smile  lay  o'er  the  azure  sky, 
A  mighty  insect  creased  the  water's  breast, 
'Mid  blossoms  gleamed  a  gorgeous  butter|ly. 

The  land  its  veil  of  shimmering  mist  uprolled, 
As  coils  a  maid  her  hair  when  she  has  bathed; 
The  ancient  bridge  with  arches  steeped  in  gold, 
Quivered  above  the  toirent,  rainbow-swathed. 

The  reaper  fieldward  with  his  sickle  stalked, 
The  herdsman  strode  behind  the  flock  with  song; 
The  maid,  barefooted,  with  the  seed-cloth  walked, 
Wiping  the  pearls  where'er  she  passed  along. 


74  JAROSLAV  VRCHLICKY. 

V  tu  n£hu,  silu,  lesk,  v  to  opojenf, 
v  ten  azur,  nach,  vln,  klasu  jiskreni 

jak  temny  rachot  vpadlo  bubnu  zneni, 
zde,  Siky  vojska,  tahly  k  cviSeni. 

Zem,  drive  pisen,  ted"  se  temne  chvela, 
do  travy  motyl,  ptak  zapadnul  v  kef, 

a  hromem  dela  v  tisi  zahucela, 
a  cisty  azur  skalil  dymu  sef. 

A  ja  se  vracel,  horkost  v  dusi,  domu. 

Zde,  viecko  kde  je  blankyt,  usmev,  kve"t, 
kde  velky  mir  s  obrovskych  pada  stromu, 

se  clovek  uci  —  jak  ma  zabijet! 

,,Dedictv(  Tantalovo"  (1881). 


14.  DVE  BASNE. 

Nad  nizkou,  hrbitovni  zfdkou 
jsem  cetl  knihu  pisni; 
to  byly  div^,  v^inivd  sloky, 
v  nichz  rty  se  tiskly  k  return  v  objimani, 
v  nichz  nahe  ruce 
se  kolem  boku  liliovych  vily, 
•  nichz  krev  jak  lava 
se  hnala  k  mozku  a  v  nichz  srdce  tlukem 
div  nerozbilo  nadra, 

v  nichz  rozkos  s  laskou  zpivaly  svuj  velk^ 
a  vzdorn^,  bajn^,  jasajici  paian! 
Kvet  ohniveho  maku 
jak  zvedav  zrel  v  mou  knihu 
a  jako  v  souhlas  kyval, 
tak  jeden  zhavy  plamen 
z  te  knihy  byl  by  vzletSl 
a  promenil  se  na  kvet, 


JAROSLAV  VRCHLICKY.  75 

Amid  this  grace,  this  sheen,  this  mighty  spell, 
This  azure,  purple,  waves  and  corn  agleam, 
The  drum-roll  with  a  dismal  clatter  fell, 
Where  on  parade  the  troops  of  warriors  stream. 

The  earth,  ere  song-like,  now  in  darkness  quailed, 
The  moth  to  grass,  the  bird  to  cover  fled. 
The  calm  was  by  the  thundering  guns  assailed, 
The  azure  was  with  smoky  dusk  o'erspread. 

And  with  embittered  soul  I  homeward  passed : 
Yonder,  where  all  is  azure,  mirth  and  bloom, 
Where  to  the  trees  a  mighty  calm  clings  fast, 
-  There  man  is  learning  how  to  mete  out  doom. 

"The  heritage  of  Tantalus"   (1881). 


14.  TWO  POEMS. 

On  the  low  churchyard  wall 

I  read  a  book  of  songs: 

And  they  were  wild  and  passionate  stanzas, 

Wherein  lips  pressed  to  lips  in  close  embrace; 

Wherein  bare  hands 

Were  twined  round  lily-lustred  bodies, 

Wherein  the  blood  like  lava 

Seethed  to  the  brain;  wherein  'twas  wonder  that 

The  heart-beat  did  not  burst  the  bosom, 

Wherein  delight  with  love  sang  his  majestic 

Defiant,  marvellous,  exulting  paean! 

A  fiery  poppy's  blossom 

Pryingly  peeped  into  my  book, 

And,  as  in  concord,  nodded, 

As  if  a  glowing  flame 

Had  darted  from  the  book 

And  changed  into  a  blossom, 


76  JAROSLAV  VRCHLICKY. 

jenz  k^val  u  me  hlavy 

a  v  letu  zabloudily  motyl, 

mel  kfi'clla  samy  purpur 

a  same  zlato,  chvili 

se  mih'  nad  fadku  smSsi 

jak  ozivena  sloka 

te"  vdekuplne,  rozvasnene"  basne. 

V  torn  svezly  se  me  zraky 

niz  s  knihy  pres  tu  zidku 

na  tichy  hfbitov  drimajici  v  lese, 

a  pfede  mnou,  hie,  jine" 

tu  vlnily  se  sloky 

nesmirne  epopeje 

tak  pine  nehy,  klidu,  ticha,  smutku, 

tak  pine  smiru,  pine  odrikani, 

te  nekonefine  basne, 

jiz  prisna  zpiva  Smrt  —  a  ja  se  zachvel 

a  rychle  zavrel  knihu, 

ztich'  hymnus  rozkose  pred  pisni  Smrti. 

A  jako  v  souhlas  hlasne  zasumely 

kol  vazne  buky  a  stribrn^  brizy, 

prch'  motyl,  jen  mak  zhav^ 

jak  vyCitka  stal  tich^  v  parne"m  vzduchu 

a  hotel  v  slunci  .  .  . 

..Zivota  smri"  (1892). 


JAROSLAV  VRCHLICKY.  77 

That  nodded  by  my  head ; 

A  straying  butterfly 

With  wings  of  purest  purple 

And  purest  gold,  anon 

Gleamed  o'er  the  throng  of  lines, 

Like  to  a  living  stanza 

Of  this  harmonious,  empassioned  poem. 

And  then  my  eyes  were  turned 

Below  the  book  across  the  wall 

To  the  quiet  graveyard  sleeping  in  the  forest, 

And  before  me,  lo,  were  other 

Stanzas  eddying  onwards, 

Of  an  unbounded  epic 

So  full  of  grace,  of  calm,  of  rest,  of  sorrow, 

So  full  of  concord,  full  of  resignation, 

Of  that  unending  poem 

Chanted  by  ruthless  Death,  —  and  with  a  shudder 

I  quickly  closed  the  book: 

The  hymn  of  bliss  was  hushed  before  Death's  song. 

And,  as  in  concord,  came  the  limpid  rustle 

Of  solemn  beeches  and  of  silvery  birches; 

The  butterfly  was  gone;  the  glowing  poppy 

As  in  rebuke,  grew  still  'mid  sultry*  air 

And  in  the  sunlight  burned . . . 

"Lift  and  death"  (1892). 


78  JA  R  OSLA  V  VR  CHLICKY. 


15.  SOUCiT. 
Del  Satan  Kristu  v  chvili  pokuseni: 

,  Jen  boil  svet  se  v  jeden  hrbitov  mem, 

krev  try  ska  z  ran  a  te£e  na  bojisti, 

kam  pohlednu,  v  ocich  se  slzy  blysti, 

smrt  radi  berouc  otce,  bratry,  matky, 

rve  vichr  koraby  a  trh$  chatky, 

rve  ohen,  kdy  chce,  dilo  lidske  ruky, 

zem  chveje  se  .  .  .  Kdo  vypodte  vie  muky, 

jimz  v  plen  dan  clovek  s  obrovskou  svou  praci? 

On  stavi  stale  a  kdos  stale  kaci, 

on  ziti  chce  a  kdos  jej  v  taji  rdousi, 

tarn  jed  se  sliva,  tarn  se  dyka  brousi, 

tarn  z  bezdna  zahubne  se  vali  pary. 

Ma  dlovek  z  vSeho  nemoc,  zhoubu,  zmary, 

vie  Buh  mu  nedal".  Zvedna  vlfdne  zraky, 

del  Kristus  Use:  Soucit  dal  mu  taky! 

,,BoJldct  z  Parnasu"  (1892). 


JA  R  OSLA  V  VR  CHLICKY.  79 

15.  PITY. 
To  Christ  in  his  temptation  Satan  said: 

"God's  world  is  made  a  dwelling  of  the  dead. 

Blood  flows  from  wounds,  on  battle-fields  it  lies, 

Where'er  I  gaze,  are  tear-besprinkled  eyes. 

Sires,  brethren,  mothers,  Death  in  his  frenzy  hales, 

Ships  are  destroyed,  huts  dragged  away  by  gales. 

Fire  mars  the  work  of  man,  if  so  it  wills. 

Earth  trembles  .  .  .  Who  shall  count  the  tale  of  ills 

That  upon  man  and  his  great  labour  prey? 

He  builds,  and  someone  plucks.it  all  away. 

He  yearns  to  live,  and  chokes  in  someone's  snare. 

Here  poison  flows,  —  a  blade  is  whetted  there. 

There,  from  the  pit  of  havoc,  vapours  drift; 

Sickness,  destruction,  ruin,  are  man's  gift. 

God  gave  naught  else."  Christ's  upturned  eyes  were  grave: 

Softly  he  murmured:  "Pity,  too,  he  gave." 

"Thorns  from  Parnassus"  (1892). 


PRINTED  BY 

DR.  ED.  GR£GR  AND  SON.  PRAGUE. 
CZECHOSLOVAK  REPUBLIC. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


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